Burning Bright
by Written Fire
Summary: Thirty short stories about the epic relationship between James T. Kirk and Spock: take three.
1. Seal With A Kiss

_Hello, everyone! :D I'm very excited about this years Thirty Days of Spirk, and I hope that you are as well :)) The prompt I chose to start us off with worked so great it's 1,568 words long (according to my word doc, anyways). Like holy frap, guys. That's the longest yet. We can only hope they are all as lengthy!_

 _Anywho. ANYWHO._

 _I'll shut up and let you get to reading now. Hope you like it~_

 **Disclaimer (for the whole fic!):** I don't own Star Trek! And I never will - which is a-okay with me!

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I didn't know you were my teacher AU

* * *

The semester had barely started, and it was already off to a rough start. Thanks to his mother and her… _issues,_ Jim missed his first two weeks of classes. If not for the fact that his advisor was Pike, he doubted he would have been able to continue attending them instead of dropping, which he _knows_ is what would have happened had this happened to someone whose parent wasn't a hero of Starfleet.

Though he would rather escape the 'special' treatment, he can't say he isn't grateful, in this case. The classes he's in this semester are some of the most important for his field of study.

Jim hated the trips back home like he'd just had; what had started out as a short weekend visit before school started again turned into a case of 'my face sets my mother off but I'm also the one needed around to settle her again'. It was a vicious cycle.

But finally, _finally,_ he was back home and ready to get into the swing of things again. And to celebrate that fact, he dragged Bones out of his room and away from his books, going to the bar they preferred when they didn't want to be surrounded with their fellow Cadets. It was busy but calm, too, the perfect—yet odd—combination. To make up for the fact that he had given him no choice in going out with him Jim bought the first round of drinks, getting the good stuff he knows he likes but won't buy because of the price.

Bones buys the next round and Jim knows he's in the clear then, settling into the stool and talking about what drama he'd missed. It was just the lighthearted chatter that he needed, and before long he was roaming around the room, stopping here and there to talk to familiar faces. It was during his second go 'round, when he came back for another beer and to set Bones talking to a woman he knew was just his type that he saw him.

He's sitting at a table in the back by himself, back to the wall and a glass of wine before him that's almost empty. His face is softly lit by the glow of his Data PADD, and Jim can tell by the cut of his hair and the pointed tips of his ears that he's a Vulcan.

Jim's attention is instantly caught.

Turning back to the bar he makes sure Bones is doing okay with the woman—he is—before flagging down the bartender. "I'll have another one of these," he wiggles the empty bottle in his hand before setting it down. "And a refill of whatever he's having." He tips his head in the Vulcan's direction, thanking the bartender with a wide grin when he sets the drinks on the counter before him moments later.

Jim deftly navigates his way through the crowded room, shifting into the Vulcan's line of sight so he could grab his attention. When he did look up, he lifted the glass of wine a tad, smiling demurely at him. "Mind if I join you?"

In the time it takes him to answer Jim can imagine him weighing the pros and cons of saying yes, looking between the glass in his hand and the smile Jim _knows_ people find irresistible. He knows his answer before he says it by the way he locks his PADD, setting it down before nodding towards the chair across from him.

Jim sits and hands the glass of wine to him, taking a sip of his own drink before introducing himself. "Hey. I'm Jim,"

He watches as he draws the glass closer, finishing the last bit of wine left in his original glass before he introduces himself as well. "Hello, Jim. I'm Spock."

"It's nice to meet you, Spock," Jim grins, privately enjoying the way his name rolls of his tongue. Settling back into the chair Jim turns on his charm, asking just the right questions to get the conversation flowing. It isn't long before he's leaned in towards him, animatedly talking about the paper Spock had been reading before he walked up. At that point he's being solely himself, the majority of him enjoying talking to someone on his level, the idea of taking him home on the back burner for the moment.

It isn't often that he really finds someone he connects with on an intellectual level—the majority of his fellow Cadets believing him to be stupid—and it's more stimulating than he expects.

Jim suspects that's why the rest of the night unfolds as it does.

* * *

Nipping his lower lip Jim wraps his legs around Spock's waist when he lifts him, tongue darting in and tangling with his when granted the opening. His runs his fingers through Spock's hair, fisting his hands in it to gently tip his head back, listening to his soft panting as Jim kisses down his neck. He feels the shiver run through him when he lightly drags his teeth along his adam's apple, groaning himself when Spock brings his head back up and presses a bruising kiss onto his lips.

Jim lets go of his hair and scrambles at his shirt instead, letting out a shaky moan when his efforts earn him a small thrust of the hips.

* * *

They're rolling around the bed, fingers pressing bruises into hips, scrambling to find a grip on sweaty skin. The low rumbling growl of a sound Spock makes every time Jim does something he particularly likes might just be the sexiest sound he's ever heard in his life. Spock rolls them so he's on top, changing the angle so that the next thrust hits _that spot_ dead on, making Jim let out a strangled mix of a yelp and a moan; he grabs Spock's face and brings it down to share a sloppy open mouthed kiss through their thrusts.

Though they have a while to go, Jim knows this will easily be one of the most sensual nights he'll ever have.

* * *

Waking up is a surprise for Jim; out of all the one night stands he's had, never before had he fallen asleep at their place afterwards. As he slips slowly out of the bed and into his clothes, quietly making his way out of Spock's home, he can't help but wonder what it was about the Vulcan that made him comfortable enough to do so.

* * *

Luckily for Jim, Bones is already up and in class for the day, so he doesn't have to try and fail to avoid the cocked brow and steady drawl when he asked him if he had fun the night before. It wouldn't be the first time he'd asked that, but it would be the first that involved him having done the 'walk of shame'. Using the sonic shower so he could be quicker, Jim changed into a clean pair of clothes and headed out to his first class of the day.

* * *

By the time he'd made it to his last class of the day—the one he'd heard was the hardest—Jim couldn't wait to get home. The day hadn't been bad, but he'd had a constant back burner thought of finding Spock and seeing if he wanted to go another round—something he doesn't do very often, if at all.

Guess it proved to be just his luck, that he settled into his seat and looked up to find just the man he was thinking of.

Slouching into his seat Jim curses under his breath, chewing on his lower lip; shaking his head he straightens back up, smiling sheepishly when Spock finally sees him halfway through class, back stiffening ever so slightly. Jim isn't surprised when at the end of class, he's asked to stay. He waits until everyone is gone to make his way down to Spock's desk, shoving his hands into his front pockets.

It only takes a minute of looking at each other for Spock to ask his question.

"Did you." He pauses, before continuing on. "Did you sleep with me for good grades." His voice is stiff, and if Jim were to hazard a guess—hurt.

Jim is quick to shake his head in denial. "I didn't even know you were my teacher, Spock. This is the first day I've been able to get to classes."

Spock's eyebrows do a complicated movement between frowning and raising in disbelief.  
"Why were you absent for the first two weeks?"

Rocking back on his heels, Jim rubs a hand at the back of his neck. "It was a uh, family emergency. Pike said he cleared it with everyone?"

"Commander Pike?" At Jim's nod, Spock cocks his head and continues. "You are Cadet Jim Kirk."

"The one and only." Jim grins.

Spock lets out what can only be described as a sigh. "What happened last night can never happen again."

"Oh, no sir." Jim says with a smirk, leaning into Spock, blocking him in with his arms on either side of his torso, holding on to the edge of the desk. His smirk only deepens at the intake of breath he both feels and hears him take—it's only too obvious just how his proximity is affecting Spock. "Never again, Spock." He breathes, watching smugly as his eyelids flutter shut before he seals their lips together in a kiss.

* * *

 _SOOO? Like it? :D Excited for more? Tired of my enthusiasm? XD_

 _I'm going to get started on the next prompt like...right now. lol_

 _Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think?~_

 _Until tomorrow! ^_^_


	2. You Know We're A Thing

_Like two hours late, but...it is 917 words long! Still doing better than last year! ^^'_

 _Hope you enjoy~!_

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Woke up with amnesia AU

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The first thing he sees when he comes to is the most adorably ridiculous bowl cut he's ever seen. Just under that, cute elf like ears that belong to a gorgeous face that—while obviously concerned, even if just in the eyes—is so very stoic. Though he doesn't know who the guy (Vulcan?) is, he has the strongest urge to ease the worry on his face. He's so caught in his staring that it takes him a moment to realize that the cute pink lips he's eyeing are moving.

"—ptain? Jim, are you well?"

"Uh, yeah?" He slowly pushes himself up—what is he doing on the ground anyways?—noticing the hand that is instantly on his back, helping to steady him. It's unbelievably warm, and the moment it's gone he wants it back. Taking a look at his surroundings it's easy to tell that he's not on Earth anymore; the area is far too alien, and while there were places that had become more exotic since the Federation started up, they never looked as real as his surroundings did now.

Frowning Jim starts to stand, glad to notice that the hand has updated to an arm now which he uses to brace himself. He gives him an absent minded thanks, tightening his hold when being fully upright makes him a little woozy. "What happened?" he turns to face the Vulcan as he asks, and gets to see the momentary confusion that lights chocolate brown eyes.

"Upon our landing, you stumbled over a root in your path and hit your head. You were unconscious for approximately three minutes and fifteen seconds." The Vulcan is swift to answer, looking towards the back of his head where he assumes he hit, judging by the throbbing pain radiating there.

"Well. And uh, I'm here why?" he asks, looking down at his clothes and frowning at the Command Gold shirt. "And why am I wearing this? I'm a Cadet, not a Captain."

His words cause what little noise there was around them to stop, everyone's focus now on him. Looking around while he waits for an answer he sees no familiar faces, something that causes the frown to grow.

"You are the Captain of the USS Enterprise; we are in year two of our five year mission and the planet we are currently on is named Starsis. We are on what you have called, a 'milk run'. I am Lieutenant Commander Spock, science officer and your First Officer, as well."

Jim raises a brow at his words, noting an underlying warmth behind the 'your' in his sentence—and isn't that a possessive way to introduce himself? "It's nice to meet you, Spock." He smiles, enjoying the green tint it brings to the tips of his ears.

"Due to your confusion, I believe we should return to the ship and see Dr. McCoy." Spock brings out his communicator, missing the brightening of the grin on his face.

"Bones is on the ship? That's great!"

"Mr. Scott, two to beam up."

* * *

"How the hell did this happen? Damnit, kid, you can't go do anything without injury, can you?" Bones grouches, fingers soft as he cleans and bandages his wounded area, sighing once he's scanned and ran all his tests. "Hopefully, this memory loss isn't permanent."

"Well I'm sure you'd find a way to fix it if it was, you mother hen." Jim teases, wincing at the hypo he gets in the neck in response.

"Oh knock it off, you infant."

Jim grins at him, looking over to where Spock is talking with one of the crew members who had gone down with them. "So, what can you tell me about him?" he asks in an undertone, trying his hardest not to be overheard.

"Who, the hobgoblin?" Bones rolls his eyes when Jim's response is to kick him gently in the leg. "He's the First Officer. And no, I don't know what your relationship is. You bicker like an old married couple." He mumbles the end, looking down at his tricorder to get a second look at the results, missing the look of contemplation that crosses Jim's face.

* * *

In the days that follow, Jim sticks to Spock like glue. Despite what Bones said and the fact that Spock himself told him himself that they were friends, he didn't really believe them. There was just too much attraction—and certainly a startling amount of affection—for them to _not_ be together. He refused to believe otherwise.

It certainly didn't help change his mind, the fact that Spock didn't seem to mind how Jim hung around him, learning things about himself and how he got to be where he was along the way.

* * *

Leaning towards Spock he grins and puts his hand on his arm, enjoying the fact that he doesn't move away and, if fact, seems to lean into the touch. It's the little things like that, that makes him think they're a couple. It really wouldn't be a bad thing, if they were.

* * *

By the time he wakes up with his memory intact, he's not surprised to find himself in bed with Spock, their bodies impossibly tangled and Spock's lips resting on his hair. Shifting himself closer Jim inhales deeply, enjoying the warm affection he can feel radiating from the places their skin touches. He smiles softly and presses a soft kiss to the closest bit of skin he can reach, slowly drifting back to a restful sleep.

* * *

 _*flails around*_  
 _*falls on face*_  
 _! (heart)_

 _Let me know what you think?_


	3. My Illogical Choice

_Spock fought me so hard on this today, so you have him to blame for the shortness of it. It's only 367 words long. Hopefully, whoever tomorrow chooses will cooperate. Enjoy, everyone!_

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This person just fell asleep on me in the subway but they're cute so whatever AU

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One of the things Spock disliked most about living so far away from campus was having to ride the subway. All manner of strange people rode it as well, and it was not cleaned on a consistent basis; the most positive aspect he could discern of it was that he was able to catch up on his reading during the time it took him to arrive to his destination.

Spock had been lucky so far in sitting alone, managing to keep his personal space from being infiltrated. He assumed his blank face warded others off—if his mother was to be believed, it was intimidating for those who were not accustomed to Vulcan ways of being. It _was_ something he had noticed himself, and made no move to fix.

The events that transpired next were as startling as anything could be.

It had been storming throughout the week, and that day was no exception; rain fell heavily from the sky and a bitter wind rustled through the trees. Spock was properly bundled up, gloves off for the ride so he could look through his PADD for his plans for the day. If he had been paying more attention to his surroundings he would have noticed the blonde making his way through the train before finally sitting beside him.

Spock didn't notice anyone is there until there is a pressure on his shoulder, and heat all along his side. He stiffened the moment he felt it, turning his head and looking down at soft, dirty blonde hair. A slight frown furrowed his brow as he took in the features before him, realizing he'd seen the man riding the subway before. His face was aesthetically pleasing, and the times he had overheard him talking he had noted that his voice was what one would call pleasing, as well.

Why he chose to sit beside him he didn't know; but seeing the dark bags underneath his eyes, Spock makes an illogical choice: to miss his stop and continue to ride until he awoke, so that he could continue to sleep. Perhaps, once he awoke, he could see if his eyes were as bright up close as they seem far away.

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 _I hope the cute factor at the end made up for the length!_

 _Until tomorrow~_


	4. Summer Sun, Something's Begun

_Jim was pleased to be chosen and as such-a longer piece! Woo! It's longer than the first one, actually. So double woo! :D_

 _Word count for this is: 1,722!_

 _Enjoy!_

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You're a hot surfer and I'm an awkward person working at an ice cream stand on the beach AU

* * *

Summer is one of Jim's favorite times of the year for many reasons; one, he gets away from his small ass town and his jerk of a step dad for _the whole season._ Two, the only real friend he has lives just houses down from his grandparents so he gets to see him whenever he wants. And three: getting to enjoy the ocean, whenever he wants.

After losing his dad—their son—in an accident just minutes before he came into the world, his grandparent's admittedly spoiled him rotten, and had a relaxed parenting style when it came to him. Jim makes sure not to take advantage of it, especially since they're the only ones in his family who _really_ gives a shit about him; at least, that's what it feels like the majority of the time.

He's been coming and spending his summers with them since he was kicked out of the 'special' summer school program three years back—the only thing that made it special was that it was supposed to prove a challenge for him and failed more spectacularly than his regular school teachers already did. Riverside wasn't prepared for a genius kid, and nothing they did to try and reach his level ever worked. If it wasn't for the fact that his mother was out of range so often they would have already rushed him through to graduation, so he could get into a college that would prove more stimulating.

Unfortunately for Jim, though, his mother can hardly stand to be around him whenever she _is_ home, and her husband resents the fact that his step-kid is a great deal smarter than him. Jim often wonders if he's kept around just as an outlet for him to vent his frustrations out on.

His time at the coast really is good for him; he has people who want the best for him around, and he's kept active enough that he doesn't get into trouble—nothing too serious, anyways. Jim _is_ a trouble magnet, after all, and he's the first to say so.

One of his all-time favorite things to do while there is surf, and he's made a few good friends out of it too. Len's not too crazy about it and very vocal about that, but anytime he says something Jim just grins and says "Least you're getting some practice fixing people up!" He's not sure why that doesn't cheer him up; when Sulu and Chekov over heard that, he'd had them in stitches.

Maybe it was just his grouchy, old man personality shining through. Either way, no matter how much he bitched he never _actually_ tried to stop him, so as long as he was fine waiting alone on the sand, Jim was going to continue riding the waves. It settles him, and that's a hard thing to do.

* * *

The first time Jim sees him he's changing the special on the chalkboard outside the ratty looking ice cream stand that sits at the start of the pier. The inside of the place looks ten times better than the outside of it, and the seating choices available are a rag tag assortment that doesn't look like it should go together but somehow fits. It's the best place to get ice cream in town, and very popular, despite the fact that the actual name placard had been lost in a storm so long ago that everyone just referred to it as 'The Shack'.

He has the most awkward hair cut he's ever seen—yet somehow rocks it—and has _such_ a serious face; Jim instantly wants to see what it would take for him to crack and relax it. Turning to his best friend Jim nudges him in the side, trying to gain his attention.

"What?" Len grouches, the tone bringing a quirk to his lips.

"Who is that, Len?" he asks, pointing him out with a tilt of the head.

"That's Spock, he moved to town at the start of the year. His dad's some big hot shot and his mom is the new teacher at the elementary." Leonard answers, raising a brow at him. "Why? You can't be interested in him already; you haven't even met him yet."

"I was just curious about the new face!" Jim laughs, shoving the stern finger wagging in his face away. "Can't a guy wonder who the stranger at his favorite shop is?"

Leonard rolls his eyes, kicking his sandals off the minute they get on the sand, not caring about how rough it starts out since he's lived there all his life. "Sure, a guy can wonder. You, on the other hand? Nope." he scoffs, a playful smirk on his lips. Jim shoves him—mostly gently—laughing along with his friend as they make their way down to the beach to where their friends await them.

* * *

The next time Jim sees Spock he's handing Uhura an ice cream cone, and he can tell by body language alone that she has a crush on him. If it's reciprocated is a little harder to tell, but Jim doesn't give it much thought because a second later Scotty's rambling on about something in his ear and his attention is sufficiently caught. The older boy always has a crazy scheme up his sleeve and Jim learned early on to pay close attention when he's sharing whatever it is with him. Sometimes it's the only way to not be on the receiving end of some grand prank—Jim much prefers to be on the other end of those.

* * *

The third he sees Spock is the first time that he actually speaks to him. He's meeting Leonard at The Shack, and while he's waiting for him Jim decides he might as well get an ice cream to pass the time. It isn't until he gets to the counter that he realizes whose there; the moment he sees his bowl cut he has to bite back a grin.

"Welcome to The Shack, what would you like to order?" Spock asks, his tone bland—it's obvious he says that an unreasonable amount of times a day.

"Mm, two scoops of cake batter in a waffle cone, please." Jim grins.

"That'll be $3.50," Spock says, s small blush coloring his cheeks when their fingers graze as Jim hands over his money. The sight of it causes Jim's grin to widen, leaning against the counter at the sign of interest.

"So, I hear you're new to the area." Jim watches as he puts his money in the register, watching his hands before grabbing the scooper and popping the lid to his favorite flavor.

"Yes. My family moved here at the beginning of the year." Spock answers, catching his eye as he grabs a waffle cone. "I have not seen you here," he adds, deftly scooping out the perfect amount and placing it in the cone.

"I'm only here for the summer." Jim answers his unspoken question, leaning in further to watch him repeat the process. "I come and stay with my grandparents." Spock wraps a napkin around the bottom of the cone before handing it over to him, Jim making sure to graze their fingers once again. "Thanks."

"You are welcome." Spock replies, the flush spreading up to his ears. Jim melts at the sight, finding it and the way he speaks cute. And the longer he stands there, making conversation as he waits for his friend, it's easy to see what had caught Uhura's interest—who is notorious for being picky about who she likes. Leonard likes to tell him that she's just a smart girl, and knows better than to be interested in him.

It's just him teasing, he knows, so Jim always makes sure to respond with a quip about Len's crush on her friend Christine.

In perfect timing, once they've exchanged names Len shows up, and so Jim leaves, making sure to get one last lick of his ice cream in before he says goodbye and leaves; just like each time before, he catches Spock watching, and the sight of his tongue darting out to lick his own lips in response is almost enough to drive him into doing something stupid.

It's a relief, honestly, that Len shows up when he does. If Jim had stayed there a second longer who knows what he would have done. Instead he gets to leave with a grin wrapped around a goodbye, Spock's voice echoing his own goodbye following him to the car full of friends that waits before him.

* * *

In the months that follow, Jim gets to know Spock better; he gets to see a smile light his face, hear his soft laugh, catch his jokes and be ensnared by an intellect that's as high as his own. It doesn't take him long, really, to fall head over heels for him—or, surprisingly, for him to do the same. Their first kiss a mess but the sweetest one he's ever had, and every kiss that follows is better than any he's had before.

The first time they have sex is awkward, but Jim wouldn't have it any other way. Practice makes perfect, and in that case it was true; after having been intimate with Spock, Jim is positive he'll never want anyone else.

Their relationship isn't always perfect, but it runs so smoothly for the rest of the time Jim sometimes pinches himself just to check that he's not caught in a dream. When Spock catches him doing that, he presses a soft kiss to his lips and whispers something cheesy in his ear, because he knows it'll make him laugh.

They still have a serious talk floating around in the air—what'll happen when the summer ends—but neither one is really _ready_ to think about it, and so it gets shoved somewhere deep to be thought of another day.

Scooting closer to him Jim links their fingers together, pressing his leg against his as he watches their friends talk and toss around a beach ball, the sunset behind them the perfect back drop. Spock leans into him, turning his head and pressing a soft kiss to his hair.

Right there, in that minute, Jim is happier than he's ever been. Surrounded by friends and with family that loves him close by, he's…complete.

* * *

 _Cheesy ending is cheesy. I like to do that, I've noticed._

 _Anywho._

 _As ever, I'd love to hear your thoughts! 3_

 _Until tomorrow!~_

 _PS. #sorrynotsorry if Summer Nights get stuck in your head 'cause of the title :P And if it didn't...I hope it does now, lol Thank you Grease!_


	5. The One Where Spock Changed It All

_My brain, it is mush. MUSH, I TELL YOU. And it's almost an hour late but uh, better late than never? *tips over* Whatevs, ignore me, enjoy the prompt!_

 _Word count: 782!_

* * *

Our friends put us on a blind date AU

* * *

Jim's dating record—to paraphrase the words of Phoebe Buffay—'read like a who's who of human crap'. He didn't really see the harm in that, but his friends all have a different opinion. It's a constant source of topic to grouch about for Bones especially, and Jim _could_ be annoyed about it, but he actually basks in the attention; his best friend is such a mother hen, and he's never _really_ experienced that before him so it's actually kind of—nice.

The days it's overbearing, though, he can give as good as he gets.

When it comes to his dating life, Jim is actually content with how things are. He's not ready for a long term relationship; he's not sure he ever will be. Growing up he never saw a healthy relationship, and overtime and events it became hard to place his trust in someone, to leave himself vulnerable and open to hurt. Flings and one night stands were great—quick, and rarely ever messy. Jim never had to worry in those.

If he were to be completely honest, he'd admit: if he saw potential for something _more_ with someone, he would avoid the person in question, shove aside the feelings before they could even begin. Friendship was as long term a relationship as he wanted to get with anyone.

The first blind date they set him up on, he doesn't even know that he's _on_ one until his friends leave and his date shows up. He does what he's best at and rolls with the punches, charming her and enjoying a night together; come morning they've gone their separate ways and he has a number he knows he'll never call. The conversation he has with his friends later that day is heated, but he eventually stomps off with a promise to show up—but not a promise for more.

The following dates go much the same as the first; in some cases, he walks away with a new friend in the end, but the amount of dates he's been on in the span of a month is a bit much, even for him. He's sure to tell them that, and for a while, he's date free. It's blissful, not having to go out and put on the charm and spend time and money and _effort_ into trying to date someone without it going anywhere more.

It isn't until almost two weeks later that the issue gets brought up again. Nyota is the one to drop the news, informing him over a night in that she was positive he would be inviting her to the wedding with this man, and she would accept the latest book out about her chosen field of interest. Jim just rolled his eyes at the words, sneaking a wanton off her plate and dodging the elbow thrown his way.

* * *

Sitting at the table and waiting for his blind date, Jim taps his fingers nervously on the stem of his water goblet. He wishes he didn't have high expectations for the night, but there's this feeling in his gut that's telling Jim this evening is going to change—well, everything. Normally he would be hightailing it out of there, but that same gut feeling is driving him to stay, something he never thought he would do.

It isn't long until his date shows up, and Jim is left, for the first time in his life, without a thing to say.

Jim is glad he manages to stand gracefully, with none of the unsteadiness he feels inside. "Hi, I'm Jim." He smiles, holding his hand out for him to shake.

His date's fingers are warm against his, and he can't help where his imagination takes him with the knowledge—he's just glad he learned early on how to hide his thoughts so well. "Hello, Jim. I am Spock."

"It's nice to meet you, Spock."

"And you, as well." Spock replies, sitting down across from him and glancing at the menu. "Were you waiting for me very long?"

"No; I got here about five minutes ago, maybe." Jim replies, opening up his own menu that had been left neglected while he waited.

It's awkward after that, while they get over the small talk and place their orders. It isn't until Jim makes an offhand comment about the recent biology article he'd read that things really get flowing, the awkward rolling off of them and leaving in its wake a spark of connection he finds he _wants_ to let thrive.

Leaning towards him and letting loose a wide grin, Jim thinks he might just be able to let the walls down for him; Spock might just be worth it.

* * *

 _I couldn't help referencing Friends, or using their episode title format to name this. I've seen that show a truly ridiculous amount of times, I swear._

 _Hope you all liked this-let me know what you think?_

 _Until tomorrow (later today, really)~_


	6. Meet Me At Space Cafe

_Just letting Jim have his way works wonders, I've found. This wasn't originally going to be for day 6, but it's what I ended up with in the end. I hope that you like it._

 _Word Count: 983_

 _PS. Anyone know how to make the 'e' in my title fancy?_

* * *

We go to the same coffee shop every evening to do homework but we never speak to each other until today AU

* * *

There were days where college just really kicked his ass. Despite honestly enjoying all the classes that he was taking, sometimes James just wanted to toss everything out the window and spend a day with a drink in his hand and not a worry in the world. But he was there on scholarship, and he was not about to waste the opportunity granted to him. Besides that, the decision to go to college was one of the best he had ever made; he was learning new things, keeping his brain enthralled, and experiencing all matter of new things.

All in all, he wouldn't trade the off days for anything in the world. It was all just a part of the experience, in his opinion.

Early on in his sophomore year he found the perfect, quaint little coffee shop. It was locally owned and cozy, popular enough that business was booming but notorious enough that those who went to study or work in piece were always able to do so. _Space Café_ quickly became one of his favorite places to go, and he soon knew many of the workers by name.

Being friends with people who worked at your favorite shop was one of the few things he'd missed about his small hometown since moving to the city; one of the best things to come out of the move, in his opinion, was the San Francisco was so large everyone didn't know everybody, and by extension your life story was not gossip fodder, as it often was back home.

It was refreshing to be living somewhere that had no expectations of him, and where if he _really_ wanted to, he could blend in and become just another face in the crowd. James hardly ever _does_ that—enjoying for the most part being a focus wherever he happens to be—but it's always nice to know that if he needs to, he can essentially 'disappear'. The skill had come in handy already more than once.

One of his favorite things about moving there and finding _Space Café_ , though, had to be the young man who happened to work on papers there as well—and it always seems to be during times that _James_ is there. He refused to believe that it was just a coincidence. It took him a long time to discover what his name was; he always looked so serious when working James never had the heart to interrupt him. Watching the small furrow in his brow was far more rewarding than being on the receiving end of his blank, but obviously annoyed glare; James had seen him give it to some poor unsuspecting soul one day and quickly decided that he never wanted it to be sent his way.

For the first time in his life, James had found someone who made him—for lack of a better word—shy. He had the gut feeling that they would ignite brilliantly together and he didn't want to mess that up. Figuring out how to start a conversation with him took up more of his time he was willing to admit, but it would be worth it, and nothing Bones had to say would change his mind on that. James often found himself ignoring his advice when it came to relationships; the man was still bitter about his divorce and so James had to take some of the things he said with a grain of salt.

That wasn't to say that he was _never_ right—not that James would ever admit that to him. The man was smug enough as it was, he didn't need to put that smirk on his face himself.

But that evening, James had decided that he would suck it up, and _finally_ take a chance and talk to Spock. There was only one way to tell if his longing glances were reciprocated, and that was to go directly to the source. Blatantly ignoring the fact that his palms were sweating and his heart was pounding away like he had just run a mile, James stepped away from the counter, a warm cup of hot chocolate in his hand and his backpack full of notebooks and school books weighing down his shoulder on the opposite side, slowly making his way to Spock's booth in the corner.

Stopping in front of his desk he cleared his throat to get his attention, keeping the sound soft enough that it wasn't grating but loud enough that there was no doubt that he would hear it. He waited for him to look up from his paper to shoot him a smile, shifting his weight and holding his cup closer to his chest in an unconscious show of nerves as he asked the other man his opening question.

"Hey, do you mind if I sit with you? I'm James."

Spock, after a moments consideration, inclined his head to the empty chair in front of him. "Hello James, I am Spock." He said, moving a paper or book here and there to make room at the table for his unexpected guest.

At the sound of his voice James felt a rush of heat spread throughout his body, biting down on his lower lip to keep the smile from stretching across his lips. "Thanks," he uttered shyly, unzipping his bag and pulling out the books and notebook he would need for his assignment, digging a pencil out as well. Glancing up he found Spock already looking over at him, color flushing his cheeks at being caught staring. James let his smile free in response, his cheeks lightly dusted as well.

Though their time together had just started, James was confident that the rest of his plan would go well, and he would be leaving the shop that night with his number and a promise for more; despite being uncharacteristically shy with him, James was still—undeniably—irresistible.

* * *

 _So I watched Supernatural on the 6th and a character death hit me so hard that it put me in a funk that lasted until about 3 in the morning on the 8th and by that point I had to go to sleep and couldn't finish writing this out._

 _I hope to catch up this weekend, you guys. *fingers crossed* I hate being behind, even on a self-imposed schedule!_

 _Thank you for reading, and please - let me know what you think!_

 _PS. I actually really like this one. :o_


	7. Roommate Needed Swift Reply Appreciated

_Having the words flow more easily in the middle of the night is kind of a frustrating thing; my brain can never decide on if it wants to spill words or hush up and let me sleep. *frustrated growl*_

 _Word count: 1,540!_

* * *

You apply to be my roommate AU

* * *

Jim didn't know what to do. Leonard was in a serious relationship with one of the nurses on his staff, now, and they had made the decision to move in together. He was happy for them, he really was—Leonard deserved to be happy, and Christine certainly made him that—but he was now living _by himself_ in an apartment he couldn't afford by with his salary alone. If Leonard knew that he didn't actually have someone moving in like he had told him he did, his best friend would hold off on moving out until he was sure he did.

And while that would be—nice, and something the grump of a doctor would certainly do for him, Jim didn't _want_ him to. Leonard had been practically living with Christine, anyways, and it didn't make sense for him to continue to spend money on the apartment when so much of it already went to his witch of an ex. How that woman ended up with so much in alimony he didn't know, but considering how discussing that whole affair led Leonard to drink heavily he was fine not knowing.

But knowing exactly how much went to that woman and how much the man made, Jim knew that he wouldn't be able to afford another monthly payment for an apartment he wasn't even going to be living in. With that in mind he lied to him, and made sure that it was convincing enough that he didn't question beyond the perfunctory 'are you sure'.

Which was all well and good, but now he was living alone in a nice, pricey two bedroom apartment with no idea how he was going to pay the whole of the next months rent. He only had two weeks to find someone, and who knew how long it would actually take him to find someone who _fit._

Jim was in for a long, hectic and stress filled couple of weeks—and boy, was he not prepared.

The first thing Jim made sure to do was but an ad not only in the paper, but also online; hopefully his Craigslist listing wouldn't leave him with a lot of people who were interested but too unsettling and flat out creepy to consider. He did not hold out much hope for that, though.

In the first few days his ad went up, Jim did not reel anyone in. It wasn't until the fourth day it was up that he received a call, and he had been so relieved he was surprised he didn't break out into a happy dance right on the spot. He managed to hold it in until they hung up, but only just. Normally he wasn't a spontaneous happy dancing kind of guy, but at that point he was almost oozing stress out of his pores so exceptions could be made.

His first interview wasn't bad, but it hadn't exactly gone well, either. The guy was nice but sort of bland, and Jim had a feeling he would get annoyed with that very quickly. His next interview went worse than the first and he couldn't get her out of his space fast enough; she had been more interested in getting into his bed then she had sharing an apartment, and as hot as she had been (he was slightly ashamed to admit he conversed with her ample chest, at one point) it wasn't what he needed at the time.

That weekend passed in a blur of bad first meets and decent interviews that he could see potential with, but no one that really struck out. There was a time limit on when he needed the new roommate to move in, true, but Jim refused to get stuck living with someone that would be a bad fit in the long run. So he was picky, sue him; no one wanted to be stuck with someone they couldn't get along with, and he was no different.

By the time the second week of interviews was about over, Jim was losing any hope of finding someone he really wanted; as time went on it looked more and more like he would have to just choose the next best thing and hope for the best. It wasn't what he wanted by a long shot, but he would sooner settle than be left out on the streets. Jim had more pride than that.

He was done to the last interview—not only for the day, but overall—and Jim couldn't wait until it was done and over with and he could fall into what would undoubtedly be a restless night of slumber. His hopes going into the thing were low, and it made what happened all the more of a welcome surprise.

At first glance, Jim couldn't help but notice how _attractive_ the man was. He gave himself a moment to take him in before putting on a more professional air, letting him in and shutting the door before sticking his arm out for a handshake. "Hi, you must be Spock? I'm Jim," he blurted out, ignoring how warm the hand against his own was and releasing it after two quick pumps before leading the way into the living room and sitting down in his computer chair, across from the couch where Spock settled.

"It is nice to meet you, Jim." Spock said, his hands sitting neatly on his lap, long and thin and shaped like a musician's. He had to force himself not to stare.

Jim smiled at him instead, looking down at the form Spock had filled out online and he had later printed, giving it a cursory glance to refresh his mind on what it contained. On paper, he sounded like the best bet out of the lot, but he wouldn't know for sure until he actually held a conversation with him. With that thought in mind he struck up a topic, letting things flow naturally from there. And the longer they spoke, the more sure he became; they clicked more than they contrasted, and Jim could already tell that they would be able to live together in relative peace.

There was the small issue of his gut telling him that he would fall ass over head for the guy, but he ignored it, pushing it aside as an issue that could be dealt with later, if ever at all. Leaning in towards Spock and grinning widely, Jim spoke the words that sparked what would be one of the most important relationships he would ever have.

"When can you move in?"

Living with Spock was ridiculously easy. They had their moments, and it always took some time to readjust and find a rhythm with a new housemate, but Jim never saw cause to regret his choice. A year into the new living situation and he found that he _had_ fallen for the guy, something he did his best to avoid but ultimately gave into; he was really good at hiding how he felt from others, and though it could be exhausting having to keep up a wall in his own home Jim was happy to do it because he didn't want to give Spock a reason to leave.

Leonard would occasionally make his feelings about the situation clear but only ever when they were alone, and he knew when Jim needed him to just shut his mouth and drink away his frustrations with him. That skill was one of his favorites of his best friend, and one he appreciated more than he would ever say.

His unrequited feelings were manageable, until the day they weren't; it had started out as such a normal day, and if anyone asked Jim would blame everything on Spock. He had walked out of the shower dripping wet with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and a flush that spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears—what else could he expect Jim to do, but what he did?

At the sight of that all he couldn't hold himself back any longer and he found himself moving from his sprawl to pressed against warm skin in a flash, hands slipping through slick tresses as his lips met Spock's in a wet kiss—and only half of that could be attributed to the fact that he was still soaking wet. It only took Spock a second to process and respond, his hands holding Jim's hips in a tight grip.

How long they stood there pressed together and attached at the mouth he couldn't say, but by the time they broke for air Jim's entire front was wet and their lips were kiss swollen. He took a moment to admire how delectable that left Spock looking, tongue darting out to lick his lips before his dragged his stare up and to hazy eyes. Jim didn't know what to say any more than Spock did, but he knew that whatever happened next, he would never be sorry for the moment they just shared.

It was better than anything he had ever imagined, and Jim wanted nothing more than to do it again.

So he did—and it felt even better the second time, leaving Jim aching inside for more.

* * *

 _As ever, thank you reading, and please, let me know what you think! I honestly love to hear from you guys :)_


	8. Knight in Shining

_You guys, it's 6:26 AM and just - here. Have this. Yeah._

 _Word Count: 2,075. Longest one so far! Also the longest thing I've written yet this year, jeezums._

 _PS. Fair warning, there's more deets to their little love scene than the first, but not by much._

* * *

Pretending to date you because someone was obnoxiously hitting on you AU

* * *

Jim is a fan of flirting and casual dating; he always has been, it's a surprise to no one. The fact that he's really good at it is just a known acceptance; he's also great at being a wing man, which many of his friends can attest to. His relationships never really last more than a month, and he's okay with that—honestly, he is. He prefers it that way, if he's telling the truth.

But if someone were to ever come around that would make him want more, he's not saying no to a long term relationship. He just—hasn't found the right person for that, as of yet. That's not to say that he never will, though.

At the end of a long week, Jim finds himself at the bar, ready to relax and have some drinks with some friends. If he happens to find someone to go home with? All the better. He deftly makes his way through the crowd, shooting a grin here and there when he sees familiar faces in the room, quickly making his way to the booth in the corner that they prefer. It's easy to tell that they all beat him there that night before he can even see him them; their voices may be mingled together but he can easily pick out individuals—he would know those tones anywhere.

Jim snags Bones' drink out of his hand as a way of announcing his presence, grinning widely at the rant that follows. Slipping into the booth beside him he teases his best friend before greeting everyone else, taking another drink before handing the half empty glass back, soon finding himself drawn into one of the many conversations that surround him.

It's not until he's at the bar getting another round of drinks that he sees him, sitting at the end of the long counter, spine straight and a look of discomfort on his face as the woman next to him leans further and further into his personal space. The actions bring a frown to Jim's face, and after he's paid and dropped his friend's drinks off with them he makes his way over, easing his way between the two and setting his drink on the bar in front of them. He turns to the guy and blocks the woman's view, flashing a reassuring grin before opening his mouth.

"Hey babe, were you able to get the bartender down here?" he asks, glancing down at the empty space before him. Jim has to hand it to the guy; after nothing more than what looks like a calculating blink—which he'll swear is a thing—he responds exactly how he had hoped he would.

"Not yet; he has been preoccupied at the other end of the bar and I did not want to interrupt while he was with costumers." A light blush flushes his cheeks at his words, and Jim can't help but find that cute.

"Of course you didn't," Jim says fondly, bumping his thigh with his hip; the motion both brings him closer and further emphasizes the point he's trying to make. It's a win/win, in his opinion. "I'll get him down here for you." He smiles, looking to the side with a raised brow at the obnoxious clearing of a throat. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, you could leave." The woman says, a pout on her lips and frustration to her words. Jim finds it instantly annoying.

"No can do. I don't appreciate random woman hitting on my boyfriend." He says with a sharp grin, enjoying the way her face falls at his words. Her only response is to give a loud huff and stomp away, and he's glad to see her go. As soon as she's gone Jim turns back to his 'boyfriend', taking her recently seat as his own and putting space between them. "Sorry if that was awkward, but you looked uncomfortable and well," he smiles sheepishly, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. "Just wanted to help."

"It was…fine. Thank you for the help." His words were a bit stiff but Jim figured that was out of discomfort from the whole situation.

"Don't mention it," Jim smiled, waving down the bartender and turning back to him. He hears his name being shouted behind him and chuckles, wraps his fingers around the neck of his bottle and stands. "I gotta go, but I hope you have a good rest of your night."

"And you as well."

They share an awkward nod of the head, the bartender making his way to them as Jim walks away and back to his friends. He can feel eyes on him but ignores it, setting the moment aside and going back to enjoying his night out with his friends.

Two weeks later and he's only thought of the meeting a handful of times, wishing he had stopped to at least get a name. Bones somehow manages to know what he's thinking each time and teases him mercilessly. Jim responds in an equally immature way—it's how they work.

They're at the bar again, unwinding after a long week when he finds himself with the chance to get that name; the guy is once again sitting at the bar, a glass of wine in front of him and a tense line in his shoulders as he finds himself the unwilling recipient of awful pickup lines—from a man this time, Jim notes. Once he sees this he makes an excuse to his friends and finds himself squeezed between two strangers as a human wall again, this time taking it a step further and leaning as lightly as he can against solid warmth.

"There you are; I've been looking all over for you." Jim deliberately interrupts the other man, smiling at his 'boyfriend' and picking up his wine glass to take a sniff of it. "The guys are waiting for us over there," he waves behind him vaguely and sets his glass back down.

"I was not sure what you wanted to drink tonight, so I waited here for you." His voice sounds just as great as the first time, and Jim can't help but lean further on him, wanting to hear more of it.

"A beer sounds good tonight," he muses, completely ignoring the incredulous look and gaping mouth on the man he'd shoved aside. Jim catches the bartenders eye and gets a hand held up in return, telling him they'd be just a minute. He nods to let them know he understands, turning to face the guy who's finally gathered his wits.

"Thanks for keeping my boyfriend company, but I can take it from here." Jim adds a bite to his words, waiting until the man had disappeared into the crowd to laugh over the muttered jumble of curses he'd received in reply. He turns to his man in distress, following the same procedure as last time and moving out of his space and onto the empty bar stool.

"Thank you, once again." He says before Jim can open his mouth and holds his hand out for a shake. "I am Spock."

"Jim, and you're welcome." Jim smiles, his hand lingering before he lets go. "I really don't mind." He adds, ordering a beer for himself and a refill for Spock. Before Spock can object he pays, grabbing his bottle and standing in a shadow of what he did the last time they did this. "I have to get back to my friends, but it was nice to see you."

"And you as well." Spock says, the exact words he'd spoken to Jim the last time. It makes him smile, and he goes back to his friends with a warm feeling in his chest.

The third time Jim comes to Spock's rescue he breaks their pattern and sticks around, sitting closer than he had the last two times, wanting to ask him a question before getting back to his friends—Friday bar hangouts are a mandatory thing, and the unspoken rule is no one hooks up during them. But that doesn't mean they can't set up future meet ups.

"Would you like to go out on an actual date sometime?"

"I am free Sunday."

Jim leaves that night with a number and butterflies in his stomach.

Despite how well they'd gotten along when Jim saved Spock from people who couldn't take a hint, he worried about how they date would go, if the spark and ease between them would continue through an entire date. He finds he had nothing to worry about, and the date is the best one he's had in years. Spock is interesting, and Jim finds himself drawn to him in a way he never has been to anyone else before him. It's exhilarating, and the hot kiss they share at the end of the night is one he thinks of fondly and often during the week they go without seeing each other.

Their next few dates go as well—even better than—the first, each kiss and touch further fanning the flames of his desire. He waits for Spock to make the move, for once fine with not rushing things. Jim just enjoys spending time with him, no matter what they're doing; he likes him to a ridiculous degree for how short a time they've known each other, and he's sure the feeling is reciprocated.

It's when they're watching a movie on Jim's couch that Spock makes his move, cupping Jim's face in strong hands and pressing their lips together. The kiss quickly becomes heated, mouths open and tongues grappling for dominance. Jim fists his hands in Spock's shirt and pulls him on top of him, falling back until they're laying down on the cushions, hands exploring as they make out on the couch.

Before long Jim feels all his blood rushing south, pressing his hips up into Spock's and feeling an answering hardness. Pulling back from the kiss he pants for breath, groaning in pleasure as Spock kisses his way along his jaw and down his neck, nipping here and there. Running his hands up under his shirt Jim gives another roll of the hips, biting down on his lip at how good it feels.

"Wanna take this to my room?" he asks breathlessly, tugging at his shirt glad to finally get it off.

"Yes." Spock sits up, giving Jim no time to admire his naked—and lovely, toned torso before he's got ahold of his hand and has him up off the couch and on his feet, a hungry look in his eyes. "Lead the way, Jim."

He does as he's told, pulling Spock along with him, kisses being shared and clothes shed along the way. By the time they're on his bed there's nothing between them but air and hands are mapping new territory, discovering what the other likes and dislikes. When Jim gets his mouth on him, hands holding his hips gently, the noises Spock makes are downright delectable. The fact that Spock kisses him afterwards, chasing the taste of himself in his mouth just serves to turn him on more.

Spock returns the favor by prepping him, drawing it out and bringing him close to the edge only to ease him away, repeating the process until Jim is begging him to 'just do it, already'. He's quick to give into his request, sharing an open mouthed kiss as he eases into him. Thanks to Spock's teasing it doesn't take long until Jim is on the bring again, going over with a shout of his name.

Spock follows him moments later, laying atop him as they catch their breath. Once they've settled Jim feels him slip out and get out of bed, coming back with a wet washcloth and cleaning them both up before he slips back into bed with him. Jim pulls the covers over them, rolling onto his side. Spock slots in behind him, arm wrapped around his waist and knees tucked into his, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck before falling asleep.

Jim is quick to follow him, thinking before he slips into a dream that he's forever going to be grateful that he stepped between Spock and a pushy blonde. Because it led to him in the end, and Spock, well. Jim knows Spock is going to be the love of his life—he has no doubt about that.

* * *

 _*tips over* I'm going to sleep now. Goodnight, thanks for the read, and let me know what you think?_

 _Also, it just occurred to me I didn't read either one of these over so if there's mistakes I'm sorry ;-;_


	9. Accidental Truths

_I feel like saying #sorrynotsorry all over this piece. It was fun to write, and I hope you guys like it._

 _Word Count: 1,609 :3_

* * *

It's 2 am and I'm drunk and I need some goddamn French fries right now so open your fucking door AU (Kirk)

* * *

Drinking is something he's good at, and James is not ashamed of that. Any other day, and he has such a high level of tolerance, he makes people jealous. That night, though, he would get nothing but headshakes of pity. He's drunk off his ass and he knows it, but he has a good reason! See, his asshole of an ex, Gary, went and cheated on him. Again. And though he put on a brave face around his friends, it actually hit him harder than he showed.

So maybe, possibly, he might have spent the money he was saving for their anniversary present—a truly substantial amount—and spent it on the most expensive, highest level of alcohol whiskey he could find. And it's just the _slightest_ bit possible that he downed half of it in one go with no water or food or time between.

There might also be the fact that it was the middle of the night and he was walking the streets alone with the bottle in hand, slurring his way through the national anthem. But all that was nothing to pity him for! He was a strong, independent woman who didn't need no man!

…wait, that didn't sound right.

James snorts and starts to giggle to himself over his mistake, deftly dodging the pole that suddenly sprouted in his way. It certainly had _not_ been there moments before, and wasn't that strange?

But that didn't really matter, anyways, because James was _hungry_ and there wasn't an open food place in sight. He frowns at that, stopping at the edge of the sidewalk to try and find a sign to let him know where he is. Perking up as he starts to recognize the buildings around him James hurries his way to the quaint house at the end of the block, tiptoeing his way up the drive and ringing the doorbell.

As he waits for an answer he rocks back and forth on his feet, humming a mindless tune to himself, exciting building the longer he stands there. He's just about to ring the bell again when a light turns on inside, the sounds of locks being turned sounding before the door opens and spills light onto him, the sight of a messy haired Spock bringing a grin to his face.

"Spock! Hi!" James shouts in a whisper. "Can I come in I want some fries and you make the _best_ fries!" He bounces on the balls of his feet, his grin brightening when Spock steps aside and lets him in.

"James, what are you doing out at two in the morning?" Spock asks, closing the door and locking up behind him.

"I'm gettin' some drinkin' done, duh." James answers, wagging the half full bottle in his face for emphasis. "It's good stuff, you want some?"

"No thank you, James." Spock replies stiffly, taking a look at the amount gone and raising a brow. "Have you been drinking that bottle by yourself?"

"Yup." He pops the 'p', enjoying the way it sounds. "Gary is an asshole." He says in explanation and kicks his shoes off, making his way in sock covered feet to Spock's couch, falling back onto the cushions with what he will refuse to admit is a giggle. He's not a giggle type of ma, okay, he chuckles or laughs. That's it. Bones can attest to it!

"I…heard." Spock walks to him, prying the bottle from his hands easily. "I am sorry."

"Nah, it's fine. I'm fine. Better off without him, right?" James says sadly, watching his friend as he disappears around the corner into what he _knows_ is the kitchen, though want he wants in there, he has no clue.

He wants until he rounds the corner again with a glass of water in one hand and pills in the other to say what has been trying to trip out of his mouth for weeks. "You know…you know I was with him 'cause of you, right?" Spock, who was in the process of handing him the pills freezes, wide brown eyes staring into his. "I've wanted you since forever, but you were always just—a friend, a good one, and when I thought 'fuck it', and came to woo you…" James sighs and leans forwards, snatching the pills out of his hand and holding his own hand out for the water. "Well, you were with Uhura by then."

Spock hands the water over in continued silence, his face blank and hard to read. "I believe we should discuss this in the morning." He finally says, taking the empty glass from James and setting it aside.

"Okay, if you want to." James stands, tipping forward and holding onto Spock's arms until he finds his balance. "I'll just go sleep in the spare room, night Spock." A much soberer James finds his way to bed, shimmying out of his jeans before face planting on the bed, wrapping around a pillow and falling instantly to sleep.

* * *

When James opens his eyes the next morning, he instantly wishes he hadn't. The sun is blinding as it shines in his eyes, something that never happens; he always closes his blinds before he goes to bed, so why are they open? It's not until he rolls to the side and sees the painting that hangs in Spock's guest bedroom that he realizes where he is. Only moments later and he remembers what happened the night before, and he groans when he remembers what truths he spilled to Spock the night before.

Fuck, but he never meant to say any of that to him. James was fine with how things were between them; he was in love with the guy, true, but when he saw Spock with Uhura for the first time—that day he refuses to discuss with Bones—it struck him hard that he would rather be his friend than to chance losing him. If the feelings weren't reciprocated, it would be awkward. But if they were and something went wrong, he would lose one of the best relationships he ever had.

It was why he didn't want to risk it in the first place.

Sighing he sits up, picking his jeans up off the floor and slipping into them. From the smells wafting from the kitchen he knows he's in there making pancakes, with a fresh pot of coffee either brewing or already done. It also means that he can't just sneak out and try and forget that the night never happened.

Drawing all of his courage—which he has a _considerable amount_ of—he gets out of bed and slowly walks out of the room, hands shoved into his pockets as he shuffles into the kitchen. Spock has his back to him and his focus on the stove, but on the table where he usually sits there's another glass of water and coffee, and James doesn't need to taste it to know that it's made exactly how he likes it.

He drinks half the glass of water before touching the coffee and wonders how he knew he was going to be getting up because it's still that perfect temperature. Sitting down he watches Spock, content to wait for him to start the conversation; he's not sure what he's going to say, and if what he _did_ say last night is the ruin of them… Well, he's fine prolonging the moment leading to that.

James is done with his coffee by the time Spock is done at the stove, turning the stove off and putting a plate with a stack of pancakes on the table. He grabs them both plates and silverware as well as butter and the syrup before he sits down himself, readying himself two pancakes just how he likes them in silence.

It's not until James has a plate of his own ready that he speaks, sending his heart into overdrive.

"Were you being honest with me, last night, when you spoke of your feelings?" And trust Spock to get straight to the point, no bullshitting or beating around the bush.

James cuts a few bites before he answers, stabbing a piece with his fork and trailing it through syrup absentmindedly. "Yes." He eats half of a flapjack before Spock speaks again.

"Do you still feel that way for me?"

Twirling his fork in his hands as he inhales deeply, exhaling on a sigh. "Yeah, I do."

Spock sets his fork and knife down on his plate, pushing his chair back and standing. He walks around the table to James, waiting until he looks at him to make a move that surprises him more than anything has before.

"I am glad." Spock says softly, cupping his cheeks in soft hands before pressing their lips together in the gentlest kiss James has ever been a part of. It's everything he's ever wanted and more, and when Spock pulls away he chases after him for another one. He lets go of him with a small smile, making his way back around the table to sit once again.

They eat the rest of their meal in a comfortable silence, feet pressed together under the table. James knows there will be more to talk about later, and that it might even be better to wait a while before jumping into another relationship. But he also knows, as he shares a smile with Spock over their breakfast, that he's never been happier.

And if he's this elated just from that small moment alone, he can only imagine how happy he's going to be once they're in a long term relationship; he's more than looking forward to it.

* * *

 _One of these days, I'm going to actually catch up and stay up to date. That's the hope, anyways._

 _I'd love to hear what you think, and thank you for reading!~_

 _Also, I know the...style? Theme? of the writing changes, but! For a reason, I assure you. The first half before he sleeps is his brain all liquored up. The second half is, obviously, him sober. Hope that didn't throw anyone too badly!_


	10. Surprise Love

_Guys, Spock is **really** not enjoying being in the spotlight. You can blame him for the length and the awkward I feel there is. I swear, I tried._

 _Word Count: 645 -_-_

* * *

Lost in a random small town and you show me around AU

* * *

If Spock had his way, this trip would never have happened. But his mother had this power over him and she knew it and so, he found himself taking a road trip the summer between graduation and his freshman year of college. The destined stops were figured out between the two of them, and in no time at all Spock was packed and ready to go. His parents made sure he had enough money and that his vehicle would survive not only the mileage but whatever weather he would happen to encounter before sending him on his way—despite his own misgivings on the venture.

A month into the parental enforced road trip and Spock could admit that maybe it had not been such a bad idea, after all. Though being on his own for so long was a startlingly experience, the places he had seen and the things he had done (all recommended on his list) were things he would have never done himself, but was glad that he had experienced. He called home every night when he was settled and would tell his mother about his day, something she had asked him to do at the start. Spock was glad to do so; he missed his mother and knew that she missed him, and without the phone call he would not interact with anyone that he knew.

It wasn't until he was passing through Iowa that he hit a snag in their carefully detailed plan; Spock was not sure why, but his car was having trouble with overheating and its air conditioning. He planned to fix it in the next town but as he is passing through Riverside—what, according to the welcome sign was a small town—that the car decided his plan for him by breaking down alongside a corn field.

The placement was not ideal but Spock was able to work around that, walking to the nearest gas station and asking for a tow truck. In the time it took for a truck to pick up his car and him as well, he had found the best place to stay for the night and a decent place to eat lunch while he waited to hear back about the vehicle.

It is while he is eating at the restaurant that he sees him for the first time, strutting in with confidence and a bright smile. For the first time his attention is instantly caught; when deep blue eyes met his Spock understood for the first time what his mother meant when she spoke of butterflies in her stomach. It was a peculiar sensation and one he did not know if he wished to feel again.

Spock soon figured out that how he felt on the matter had no bearing on if it happened again; for each time he saw him—James—after that first time it happened, and soon Spock began to look forward to the sensation. Along with butterflies James brought a flush to his cheeks and a warmth to his entire being—all things he had never felt before and had believed he never would. It was the first occasion he had been okay with being proven wrong.

His unexpected detour ended up lasting a month, James showing him around the town and slowly worming his way into his affections. He soon found himself not wanting to leave, not wanting to lose the conversation and looks that they shared. It is that unwillingness that prompts him to convince James in coming with him, to starting college with him in the fall, something that he had been adamantly against.

The rest of his trip is ever a surprise, with James, and his mother could not wait to meet him. Spock just knew that life with James, would ever be a surprise, as well—and he was looking forward to it.

* * *

 _If I get another one written and posted tonight, I'll finally be caught up! *happy flails* Isn't that exciting? ^_^_

 _As always, thank you for reading, and I'd love to hear what you think!_


	11. Thank you, Mel

_Could it be? Am I caught up? Oh me oh my! *dramatic faint* XD_

 _Word Count: 1,341._

 _PS. Fair warning, I forgot it said 'return him' until I was halfway through and by that point I was committed to Mel the dog, so. Sorry :p_

* * *

I found your dog wondering the streets so I decided to come and return him AU

* * *

Growing up, James—try as he might—never was able to convince his mom to get them a dog. She said that it was too much responsibility and care and that they were not home nearly enough to justify that. Privately, James disagreed; he knew the reason that they couldn't get one was because _she_ wasn't home enough. Before she married his step-dad, when she went on her business trips either their grandparents would come and stay with him and his brother or they would get a nanny who just—never left.

Out of the three, James enjoyed the nanny the best. Her disappointment hurt less, both physically and emotionally.

But between the revolving authority figures and drama that happened—because James was the poster child for a _troubled youth_ —it made sense, in the long run, that they didn't bring an innocent creature into that mix. That didn't mean that he had to be happy about it, though.

By the time he was old enough to make the decision to get one himself, he wasn't in the right place to get one. For a long while there he didn't really have a home, and spent most of his time in bars and other places that just weren't good for him. It wasn't until a chance encounter with a man that had known his father that he was pulled out of his self-destructive ways, and given a reason to _be._

Thanks to Pike's help he was soon living in San Francisco, sharing an apartment with one of the grouchiest, amazing people he had ever met. They got along like a house on fire, though having someone who cared if he came home at night and if he got banged up took a while to get used to. He was working in a well-known book store making decent money, and attending school in between it all.

It was everything he never knew he wanted; everything he never knew he _needed._

Once he was settled, the thought of finally getting that dog he'd always wanted did cross his mind, but it would just as soon leave. He wasn't sure if Leonard would even want a dog around, and to be honest, he doubted his abilities in caring for another living thing. There were some times, though, that those issues were put to the test.

It was during one of his late walks home from school that he stumbled—literally—across the most gorgeous dog he had ever seen, an Australian shepherd with startlingly clear blue eyes. James couldn't have kept walking if he tried.

He approached the dog slowly, hands held out in front of him in an unthreatening manner. James made low, soothing noises as he crouched to its level, unbelievably relieved when the dog approached him, pushing its snout into his hand with a low whine. Continuing the soothing sounds he scratched behind ears while simultaneously checking for a dog tag.

"Hey, Mel. What are you doing out alone, huh?" He was relieved to find the tag, looking from the address to the street sign feet from them and noticing that she was a few blocks away from home. "Let's see about getting you back home, how's that sound?" James smiled at the woof that followed his words, giving her another pet before standing.

He started to walk, relieved when Mel followed him obediently, wondering about that but glad that it was happening anyways. During the walk to her home he found himself discussing his day with her, a hand finding its way to her fur off and on. The closer they became to her house the harder her tail wagged, until by the end he thought her butt was going to fly off from the force of. Before they were even halfway up the walk the door flew open, light spilling down the porch and framing the tall slender man that stood in the doorway.

Mel was off like a shot at the sight of him, barking joyfully as she jumped up on him. He found himself watching the slim fingers that eased her down and ran through her fair, faintly catching the soft words being spoken as her owner greeted her. James stopped at the bottom of the steps, hands shoved in his pockets.

"I found her a few block from her, thought I should lead her home." He said, watching as he lifted is head and stared at him, one hand settled on Mel's head.

"Thank you. I am unsure how she got out, but I am relieved that she was returned." His voice is something James thinks he could listen to for days.

"No problem, I'm glad I was able to get her back to you." He replied with an easy smile, rocking back on his heels. They stand for a moment in silence, before Mel's owner steps back further into the house, bringing his dog with him.

"I have to be getting ready for bed now, thank you again. Goodnight." A flush spread across his cheeks, James barely able to respond with his own goodnight before the door is shut in his face, taking the light along with it. He stands there for a moment longer before shaking his head and turning, finally heading home and putting the entire incident behind him.

* * *

James doesn't think about the entire thing again until weeks later, and that's only because he was literally _forced_ to. He was walking home from his afternoon shift when Mel comes out of nowhere, her bark and her owner's voice calling her name the only warning he has before she's crashed into him, barking in a happy manner at him as he tried to regain his balance.

By the time her owner catches up James is petting her and laughing as she does her best to lather his face in spit. It's not a bad welcome, though when he stands to talk to her owner he has to wipe his face before he really feels comfortable opening his mouth. His smile is wide as he holds his hand out for a shake.

"Hey, man. I'm James."

"Spock," The other man replied and hooked his leash back onto her collar. "I am sorry about that."

"Nah, it's fine. Having pretty girls jump onto you isn't necessarily a bad day spent." He scratched at the spot behind her he found that she liked the last time, glancing up at Spock from beneath his lashes. "Gorgeous guys jumping you isn't exactly a hardship, either." James admitted, enjoying the flush his words induced.

"We have to be going. Goodbye, James." Spock said quickly, turning and walking away, Mel trotting along happily beside him. James knew he was flustered, and the sight amused him as much as it stirred him; he got to see the back of him, that time, and it was as lovely a sight as the front.

* * *

The short, adorably awkward dance repeated itself a few more times before James gave Spock his number, telling him to give him a call soon so that they could see each other before she started to miss him. The way he raised his brow and the tile of his lips is more than worth the teasing Leonard gives him when he learned about the encounter later.

James had always wanted a dog growing up. But life doesn't always work out, and he never did get the puppy he'd always dreamed of. But that was okay, because years down the line, when he was finally in a place he liked and is pretty steadily _happy,_ he found himself the co-owner of a beautiful Australian shepherd named Mel, whose owner he could—and did—kiss whenever he wanted to. It was good, and something he never wanted to be without again. So while he never did get that puppy being sold at the local pet store, that was fine; because he found Mel and she lead him to a family, and that was more than worth the wait.

* * *

 _Once again, cheesy ending is cheesy. You know you love it ~_

 _Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear from you :) Also, australian shepherds are such pretty dogs, my best friend has one and the adorable is just 3_


	12. Left In Pieces

_Hadn't planned on angst, but I couldn't help myself. I hope that you like this, guys._

 _Word Count: 2,203_

* * *

It's the 50's/60's and we're in love but our love is forbidden because of law AU

* * *

James had always known that he was different. But when he looked at Gary and realized that the muscles you could see stretching his shirt made him ache as much as the warm, ample weight of Gaila's breasts in his hands, it struck him how truly different he really was. As if his life hadn't been hard enough as it was; James fought the feelings as long as he could, but he never had been one to deny himself.

The first time he found himself in a dark corner with another guy, hearts racing as they explored areas recently only known by a girl, the thrill of being caught doing something forbidden was nearly as exciting as the way that his hands made him feel. He found himself enjoying the chase—and he never said that he had good self-preservation skills; one of these days, if he wasn't more careful, he would read the situation wrong and find himself with a fist to the face.

Meeting Spock was the beginning of the end, but oh, what an end it was.

He met Spock when he was in his twenties and fresh out of college, having further explored—everything, really. James had been as safe as he could be, there had been a few close calls. It was two months into his new corporate job that they saw each other for the first time; Spock was the boss' son, and had come around to learn how to run the family business when the time came. He was handsome, and every time he saw him James' fingers itched to ruffle up that perfectly styled hair and pressed suit.

Their interactions were varied in length and number and so he never could quite get a handle on if Spock was into him or just that awkward of a guy—because there was no doubt that he was awkward, everyone knew it but no one commented on it for fear of repercussion. It wasn't until he found himself pushed up against the wall in the staircase, Spock plastered to his front and mouth latched onto his that he knew for sure that _yes_ , he was into him. The fact was hard to dispute, what with his tongue in his mouth and his hands gripping tight to the lapels of his jacket.

Their kiss was over as soon as it begun, it felt like, for soon Spock had let go and left him standing alone, the door to the stairwell slamming shut behind him with James staring at it as he tried to catch his breath. By the time James made it back to the room the party had been being held Spock was gone; without him there James left soon as well, thinking about the kiss and whether it would happen again on the way home.

For days after, it was as if the moment had never happened; Spock avoided James as best he could, and any time he managed to get him alone Spock would make up some flimsy excuse to get out of there, leaving James standing alone and cut off. None of it made him feel too great, and he soon took the hint and stopped trying.

Which made what happened next all the stranger.

* * *

To help himself feel better the first night that he was able—that Friday, as it was—James went to a bar where he knew he could pick up a man and have no one bat an eye, wanting to get someone beneath him, their lips on his so he could drive the feel of Spock away and get over what had been such a small moment. For a while there, he thought he was going to get exactly what he wanted; someone he had seen around before but not picked up had caught his eye, and they were leaning in towards one another and striking sparks. He was a sure score, to be frank, and James was pleased.

But before they could go anywhere there was a presence at his back, fingers pressing warm and brief to the small of his back. Straightening from his lean he turned just enough to see who it was, eyes going wide at the sight of Spock. It was clear he had just come from the office from the way that he was dressed, and James wondered how he had even known to find him here—and why he had even sought him out.

"Excuse me, James, but there is business that I need to discuss with you." His voice was low, rough; James couldn't tell if it that was from vexation or him trying not to draw attention to them. Either way, the sound of it drew shivers down his spine.

"And this can't wait until Monday?" He questioned, though he was already digging his wallet out of his pockets to pay for his drink, knowing what the answer would most likely be.

"No, James. It cannot." Spock waited patiently for him to pay, hands linked behind his back and face smooth as he watched him say goodbye to his companion.

Though he didn't really want to James did just that, sighing in disappointment as he turned and followed Spock out of the bar and into the car that waited at the curb. James was surprised to find that he drove himself, having thought that he had someone to drive him, considering how much money he had _and_ the fact that his father had a driver. And Spock was practically following in his father's footsteps—where it showed, obviously.

The drive to where they were going was tense and quiet, James not knowing what to say and Spock offering nothing in return. Their walk into the upscale building and elevator ride, down a hallway and into an ornate door went much the same, no noise being made until the door had slammed behind them ominously.

"Do you realize how foolish what you were doing is?" Spock asked, rounding on James with a heated look in his eyes.

James raised a brow in response, crossing his arms over his chest and lifting his chin defiantly. "Everyone turns a blind eye, there; it's the safest place for me to pick anyone up on this side of town." His words cause that look to brighten, Spock's lips twitching as if fighting back a snarl. James' next words cause a reaction he never could have foreseen.

"Why do you care, anyhow? You obviously regret the small, minor moment that we had."

Spock crowded him against the door, hands fisting in his shirt as he growled his words, scant inches from James' mouth. "Because you are mine." The kiss he pressed to his lips was as searing as the words that he spoke, punching a low groan out of James' throat. How long they stayed there, kissing heatedly James didn't know, but soon there were stumbling their way into the bedroom, clothes flying off in random directions along the way.

They fought for dominance as they touched and teased, the only noise in the air the sound of their moans and the wet slide of skin against skin. When James found himself with Spock inside him it was like the world faded out, and everything became about the roll of their hips and the sweet pressure he felt each time they moved. As Spock brought him over the brink, sharing a sloppy kiss as he found his way there soon after, James wondered where he had been all his life.

He fell asleep safe in his arms, their legs tangled and skin sticky in the best possible way it could be.

* * *

The weeks after that night are some of the toughest James had ever had. He woke up the morning after their love making alone, his clothes folded neatly in a chair by the bed and money for cab fare atop it. There's no note, and James went home that day feeling used and wrong in a way he never had before. He managed to avoid spending time with Spock—and Spock the same—until he can't any longer; the two are sent on a company trip, and had to spend a very long car ride together.

James managed to keep his mouth shut and feelings to himself until they make it to the hotel and are getting settled, glad for the door connecting their rooms when he storms his way inside of Spock's, leaning against it when it clinks shut. Spock turned and stared back at him, a shirt held tight in his grip.

"Why." Is all James can bring himself to say, hand holding on tightly to the doorknob behind his back. It's a question that had been plaguing him since that day, a relentless wound that will not heal.

"We cannot be together, like that." Spock finally replied, setting the shirt down and ever so slowly. "It is immoral and we could be arrested for it."

James' jaw clenched at the words. "You can't claim me as yours, _make love to me,_ and then walk away and say that it's wrong." He pushed off the door, slowly stalking across the room. "You can't stare at me when I talk to others with jealousy or possession. That's not how this works." The last words are growled into his lips, James invading Spock's personal space in the best way he knew how. "You're either in this all the way, or you can't have a single piece of me."

Spock stared at him from under heavy lids, face blank as he thought over his words. James allowed him that moment, about to step away and be done with it all when Spock exhaled heavily and reached out a hand, slowly tangling their fingers together. "I am in this all the way."

James took his word as a promise, quickly pressing in and kissing him with all the pent up emotions he had stored. The sex that night is intense, as angry as it is sweet. His bed didn't get used that night, or for any of the ones that followed.

* * *

The time that they are together is as amazing as it is difficult. Having their relationship proved a challenge; they snuck around and were not always able to be together how they wanted when they wanted, hiding themselves from those that they loved. But James would do it all again if given the chance, because Spock was more than worth all of it and more. The moments in between it all when it is just them, when they can love each other freely and openly is everything he never knew he needed.

When they first share those three little words, he feels like his chest could burst from all of the love that is held inside of it. From then on he can't help but tell Spock that every chance that he can get, shining so brightly inside when he got to hear them in return that he feared he would blind them both.

James is thinking of ways to share their forever when his world comes crashing down around him.

They had been so very, very careful about where they would show their affections, in how much time they spent together and at the other's home. But in a twist of bad luck, on a day when they are relaxed and enjoying a quiet night in, tangled into each other on the couch as they watched the flames lick at wood and cast shadows on the walls, Spock's father enters their safe bubble, popping it with just one sharp look in their direction.

The resulting conversation—if it could really be called one, for as little as either one of them interacted—is the final nail in the coffin of their relationship. His father leaves him with the choice of James or the company; Spock is left with deciding to stay with James and be _happy,_ to share their _life's_ , or to stay working for his father in the company that he was due to inherit, one day. To keeping his father in his life, the one parent that he still had.

If it were James left with the ultimatum, he knew what he would choose in a heartbeat. Spock was it, for him, and that was all he needed. But the longer they stood there in silence, James staring at Spock and Spock staring at the place his father had been, he realized with a sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe, the answer wasn't as easy for him.

"Spock," His name came out chocked, his heart already cracking in his chest.

Spock turned to stare at him, the warm eyes that he loved cold and blocked off, his entire being stiff and making him cold all over. "I think it is best if you leave, James, and not come back." The words are spoken softly but that does nothing to lessen the sting, sharp and deep.

James gasped in pain, watching as the man he loved turn away from him, not even bothering to look as he walked out of his life, the shattered remains of his heart at his feet.

* * *

 _Yeah. That happened. Let me know what you thought?_


	13. Grilled Cheese Sandwich, Please

_One of these days, I'll catch up and not immediately fall right back behind again. That day will not be today, but there's always hope for tomorrow!_

 _Word Count: 1,296_

* * *

Sorry I set the fire alarm in our building off again for the forty-eighth time I was trying to cook AU

* * *

One of these days, he was going to get this right. But judging by the fire alarm that was blaring through the complex, that day was not today. Heaving a sigh, he turned the fire off and made sure there wasn't anything on the stove that shouldn't be there before swiping his cell off the kitchen counter and joining the mass of bodies that were making their way down the hall and out of the building.

It was a reasonably warm day, luckily, so no one was out and freezing important things off like they had been the last time his had happened; it had been the middle of the night, then, and had started to rain some hours before. The patter of rain had been what drove him to the kitchen to try and make homemade hot chocolate in the first place—suffice to say, that had not gone well.

Today he had been trying for a grilled cheese sandwich, which did not look all that hard to do. He should have known that something would go wrong, considering his luck in the kitchen. Worming his way through the crowd he stopped behind everyone, not taking note of the hottie next to him as he focused on sending a message to his roommate who was in his last class of the day. His response was an obnoxious amount of the laughing emoji—he really shouldn't have taught him that, with how often he uses it to reply to him.

It's not until he hears the soft clearing of a throat that he looks up and turns his torso to face the guy that finds himself thinking of more often than he would like to admit.

"Oh, hey." Is his reply, Jim cringing internally at how dumb he sounds.

"Hello. This is the forty-eighth time that you have set the fire alarm off in our building."

Jim stares at him in wonderment for a moment, mouth opening and closing as he tries to think of what to say. "Why do you think that it's me?" He finally asks, eye drawn to the cocked brow.

"I have seen you at the stove before many of the occasions that the fire alarm goes off; it was easy to figure out that it was you at the stove at each occasion from there."

"Well…I can't have possibly done this forty-eight times." Jim crosses his arms, turning fully to face him.

"I have kept track of each occasion this has happened, and it is indeed the forty-eighth time you set the alarm off, counting today." He turns into him as well, hands settled behind his back.

"Sorry about that," Jim says with a sheepish smile, tucking his hands into his pockets now instead. "I'm just trying to cook. Obviously, I'm not that great at it. I'm Jim, by the way."

"Spock," He has to hold back the smile that wants to burst forth at _finally_ knowing his name; though he knows Uhura is friends with Spock, she has never responded to Jim's questioning about him with an actual answer. She's too fond of tormenting him—it's how their relationship works; they drive each other insane but are still there for each other, at the end of the day. It's how many of his relationships go, if he's to be honest.

"It's nice to meet you, Spock." Jim looks away as the surge of noise starts to move from them, seeing Bones standing to the side with his arms crossed and an expectant look on his face. "Ah, I should probably go see what he wants." He indicates his best friend with a tilt of the head, watching Spock's smooth face take him in before turning back to him. "See you around, Spock."

Jim is pulled away before he gets to hear his response, but when he looks back Spock is still looking right at him, an indescribable look on his face. He hopes that it's good, whatever it is he's thinking about behind those eyes.

* * *

The next time he goes to the kitchen and starts pulling things out to cook with, he is due with a surprise. When Jim looks up from finding a pan, Spock is standing in the doorway, looking at him with a cocked brow. "Oh, hey Spock."

"Hello, Jim. Are you attempting to cook again?" Spock asks as he steps further into the room to avoid the people walking through the hall.

"Yeah, I thought I would try making a grilled cheese again. I'm not really sure where I went wrong last time but," Jim shrugs, setting the pan on the stove. "But I figure I'll get it right this time."

Spock watches him get a paper towel and a knife, digging cheese out of the fridge and finding the butter. He hands him the bread and grabs the cooking spray that he had forgotten and sets it down before him as well. "I will help you, this time. Did you use the spray, when you first attempted this?"

"Ah, no. I didn't think I needed it?" Jim picks it up and looks it over. "This isn't a non-stick pan?"

"No, not that one. You need this for occasions like this. You could also use butter, if you would like." Spock comments, opening the butter and pushing it his way. "My mother likes to put butter on both sides of her bread when she makes this dish, if you would like to try that?"

"Sure. I'll do the spray, I guess." Jim grabs the butter knife, spreading the butter as evenly as he can on the inside of each slice. After a moment's thought he puts the cheese on next, putting the slices together and picking up the knife again. He spreads the butter before turning it over, crinkling his nose when he gets the butter from the other slice on his hands.

"Okay, what next? Also, gross." Jim waves his hand in his face before turning the sink on and rubbing the butter off. He dries it off on his pants before turning back to Spock.

"My mother was more…delicate, about it." Spock says, amusement coloring his voice. "Now you spray the pan—just enough, not overly so, and turn the fire on beneath it and set the sandwich on it."

Jim does as he asks, taking the spatula from him with a smile. "Thanks. So, is there a set time I need to keep it on for, or just figure out as I go?"

"You figure it out as you go. It all depends on how you like it." Spock replies as he cleans up the mess they made, grabbing a plate for him as well. They stand in a comfortable silence as Jim finishes up his lunch, turning the stove off before sliding the sandwich from the pan to his plate. He grabs his bottle of water on his way to the table, Spock a quiet shadow as they sit at the table.

Picking up the sandwich, Jim takes his first bite—and groans. "Wow, that's good." He mumbles after he swallows, catching the heat in Spock's eye before he shields it. "Thanks, for this. It was nice to make a meal without setting the alarm off." Jim grins, enjoying the blush that fills his cheeks.

"You are welcome, Jim." Spock says softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he watches him take another bite. They continue to enjoy an easy conversation as he finishes his lunch, sharing smiles and laughter and their time together. It is just the start, and there's a long way ahead of them. But Jim is looking forward to it, and he knows that time with Spock will be just as delicious as this sandwich.

* * *

 _Hope that this was well worth the wait! I'll be *hopefully* finishing at least one more tonight!_

 _Let me know what you think? :)_

 _Also, how the hell he screwed up grilled cheese, I don't know. But now I want a grilled turkey sandwich (which is what I eat because I can't have cheese). They made it how I do it - I almost put down how my grandma makes it but I think that would gross people out lol She puts mayonnaise on the inside, which sounds gross but actually tastes fine? xp_


	14. You're My Whim

_The hope was to get three tonight, but we'll see how that goes. Most likely, I'll be writing on my phone until I fall asleep._

 _Word Count: 1,091_

* * *

End up getting married in Vegas although we're total strangers AU

* * *

Spock was not the kind of person to make a decision on whim or impulse; he was a fan of logical thinking and having a purpose behind his decisions. It made what he did on that night all the stranger.

On his twenty-fifth birthday he caved to his best friends wishes and found himself celebrating the day in no other than Las Vegas, Nevada, a place he had most definitely heard of but never visited. It was not, as his mother was wont to say, his 'cup of tea'. But, his small group of friends had been attempting to get him there since they were old enough to enjoy the attractions, and now that there was to be a show there he _was_ highly interested in seeing, Spock pitched in to book a suite for the four days they would be there.

Looking at the price, he was glad to be well off.

In the days leading up to their trip Spock found himself being dragged from one store to the next, holding onto bags because his mother raised him a gentleman. It was a relief to finally board the plane, and to be able to focus on his reading for the duration of the flight. The time on the plane went by quickly for Spock, and soon they were landing and heading to the hotel.

Once they had their bags down Spock and his friends decided to explore before choosing a place to eat, a routine that happens the next day as well. It's on the evening of the third day that he meets Jim; he was at his show and Jim had the seat beside him, and throughout the show he finds himself drawn into conversation. The two go out for drinks afterwards, and the evening from that point on is—admittedly—a blur to him.

* * *

" _You know, there's nothing wrong with letting lose every once in a while. As a matter of fact, I would highly recommend it." He leans in towards him, looking up at him through his lashes. Spock finds he cannot look away. The soft press of lips to his own is a welcome delight._

* * *

" _Do you take this man, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part?"_

" _I do." Spock breathes, barely waiting for Jim to answer the same before kissing those sweet lips once again._

* * *

 _He's undressing him as they go, lips fused together as they stumble their way to the bed. Spock moans into the hands that press to his skin, the feelings it inspires too much but not enough all at once. They crash into the bed, tangling together as they roll around the bed. It's the best night of passion he's ever had, and it's barely even begun._

* * *

When Spock wakes that morning, it's to the unfamiliar sensation of a warm body draped across his own, their breathing causing a patch of wet skin to accumulate on his neck. He opens his eyes to a hotel room that is not his own, and sunlight shining through the cracks of the curtains that were draped on the rooms sole window. It's not a situation he's ever found himself in, and for a moment he is unsure on what he should do.

There is no way to get up from the bed without waking his bed mate, and he is unsure who that _is,_ fortunately for him the dilemma resolves itself, as Jim wakes in the moment, stretching naked skin against his own bare chest, rolling off him before he opens his eyes and meets his gaze. Spock is struck for a moment but the vibrancy of his eyes, admiring the thick lashes that shield them when he blinks the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning." His voice is rough with sleep, and sends a jolt down his spine. Spock ignores the sensation, choosing instead to reply.

"Good morning, Jim." He watches him sit up, the sheets pooling enticingly at his waist. "Do you recall what we did last night?"

Jim runs his hands down his face, a frown in his voice when he replies. "I think…Spock, I think we got married." He holds his hand in front of his face, staring at the gold band that adorns his ring finger. Spock looks from Jim's to his own, breath catching when he finds a matching ring.

"It appears we did." He agrees and sits up as well, staring blankly at the dark TV screen before them as he tries to remember how the situation had occurred. Nothing comes forth, and when he turns to Jim he can see the same struggle playing out on his face as well.

"Well." Jim sighs and shakes his head. "How about some breakfast?" He asks, throwing the sheets back to stand, unashamed of his own nudity. "Want to stop by your room before we go, to change?"

Spock thinks of his friends who are likely waiting for him, and who would 'jump' him when they see him, leaving him unable to change and leave. Though he dislikes wearing clothes two days in a row, he knows going straight to breakfast is the only way he will be able to discuss the happenings of last night without having to wait.

"No, I would prefer to go to breakfast and talk." Spock stands as well, glad to still be wearing his boxers, if nothing else. He dresses swiftly, waiting patiently for Jim to exit the bathroom before following him out the room, and into the empty hall.

"Wanna eat at the buffet here, or somewhere else?" Jim asks, pressing the lobby button once they're in the elevator.

"Here will be fine." Spock answers, watching the floors tick by in silence. He leads the way out when the doors open, finding the dining hall with ease. They make their plates in a silence that lasts until they find a spot to sit; Spock bites into his eggs as he ponders what to say next.

There is a lot that needs to be said, between the two of them; they have yet to know each other for twenty-four hours, but find themselves married and having spent the night together. Spock feels something for Jim—he was able to work that out during their way down. It's hard to tell what it will grow to be since it is so fresh, but as Spock locks eyes with Jim over the table, he has hope that it will be something that lasts beyond the days to come.

* * *

 _I wrote this quicker than I thought I would. For once, Spock cooperated with me! Yay for that~_

 _I have a tumblr, if you'd like to talk with me or see my rambling mess when I'm writing, lol The link is in my bio :)_


	15. Breaking Into You

_I just want to pinch Jim's cheeks in this, I kid you not. The amusement I got from writing this, guys. You don't even know. *flails* He's like. Cute. I dunno. Enjoy him and his...himness._

 _Word Count: 2,859. Holy frap, guys. Holy. Frap._

* * *

Accidentally broke into your apartment because I was drunk AU

* * *

He stumbles his way in giggling, and if that does not tell you about his state of inebriation then he doesn't know what will. Jim isn't too sure how he got in in the first place; he can vaguely recall getting away from Len, sneaking out of the empty lobby and into the elevator. The one thing he _is_ sure of, though, is that he thought this was his apartment. He would swear up and down in court if he had to, and judging by the judgmental brow that he is getting from the resident of his not-apartment, he may just have to.

"Oh, hi! I don't live with you." He says in greeting, kicking his shoes off and walking further into the pristine apartment. "Wow, your place is so nice!" Jim makes a beeline for the couch, flopping back onto it and sprawling out. "You're Spock, right? The hot recluse."

His words catch the other man off guard, and his time spent formulating a response to his bombardment of words is just long enough for Jim to fall into a deep sleep, a leg hanging off the couch and his arms wrapped around a throw pillow. It's not the most comfortable of ways to sleep, fully dressed and on an unfamiliar couch, but it's not going to stop him from doing exactly that.

* * *

When he wakes up, there's a blanket tucked around him and a glass of water and pills on the coffee table to his left. Jim takes them without question, sipping at his beverage as he takes a look at his surroundings. Its unbelievably clean in whoever's apartment he found himself in, and painfully boring as well. There are very few nick knacks about, and the TV is practically ancient.

The only redeeming quality he can see from his spot on the couch is the old record player that sits on a table in the corner, a small bookshelf full of records beside it. Jim's fingers itch to look through them, but before he can even start to rise he hears movement coming from down the hall, and figuring out who lives there is more important than digging through an impressive collection of records.

Turning in his seat he watches as a slim body comes into view, gaze catching on the features that he's only been able to see on a few occasions since the man moved into the apartment complex, a few months back. It's just as nice up close as it has been from a distance, and Jim is pretty grateful to his inebriated self for giving him this opportunity. Though _how_ he found himself in this situation, he can't say.

"Good morning." Spock's voice is just as lovely as his face is, and Jim is not sure what to do with that. "You broke into my home last night and fell asleep." He says, tone matter of fact. Jim knows his face is bright in response, vague memories of making his way into the apartment brought forth to the front of his mind.

"Sorry about that." He swings his legs round and plants his feet on the floor, fingers plucking at a loose thread in the quilt still covering his lap. "I don't really remember much about that, so I'm not sure why I thought that would be a good idea."

"Perhaps you wanted a closer look at the 'hot recluse'," Spock suggests, watching in amusement as Jim screws his eyes up in a grimace. "No matter what prompted you to do so, I would appreciate help in fixing the lock you destroyed upon entrance."

"Yeah, of course." Jim starts to stand, intent on going to inspect whatever damage he had wrought. His actions prove useless, for moments later Spock is standing before him and handing over the mangled remains of the high security lock the complex offered all its residents. "That…might be a bit harder to fix than I thought."

"Indeed." Spock agrees.

Jim looks from his face to the broken piece of machinery in his hands, rotating it and trying to see if there is anything he can do to repair it. "I might be able to fix this, but until I can…" He hums in thought, head cocking to the side as he goes over what he has in his tool box back in his own apartment. "I have a lock you can use, until I get this one back to you." Jim looks up at him, eyes alight in his excitement to get his hands fixing the machinery; Len won't let him tinker with their own, and this is the perfect opportunity to do what he's been wanting to do. A dim part of him wonders if that's why he broke in in the first place. "It's not as good as this one, but it'll do in a pinch."

"That sounds agreeable." Spock announces and picks up the empty water glass Jim left on the table, bringing it into the kitchen.

"I'll get started on this right now," Jim sets the lockpad down so he can fold the quilt, draping it over the back of the couch before picking it back up, standing along the way. He digs his phone out of his pocket, opening up a new contact page and handing it over as he slips his shoes on. "Put your number in, and I'll text you when I find the lock, and to keep you updated on the progress with this one."

Jim waits patiently for him to do just that, grinning brightly at him when he hands it back. "Thanks. I should be back soon with your temporary lock!" He yells over his shoulder, strutting his way out the door and down the hall. His brain is already away from that morning and focused on the tinkering he's going to do.

* * *

"Where the _hell_ have you been!" Len shouts at him as he speed walks to his room and kneels at the chest, rummaging through to find the lock he'd mentioned to Spock. "Damnit, Jim, you disappeared last night and didn't answer _any_ of my calls, where the hell did you disappear to?"

"Apparently, I broke into Spock's apartment. And spent the night on his couch." His words register in his brain and he pauses in his search to dig his phone out of his pocket and see that yes, he _had_ slept through quite a few of Len's calls to him last night. The last one was at around two that morning, and he knows he must have fallen into a fitful sleep after it. "Aaand, I set my phone on silent? Don't remember doing that." He mutters to himself, turning the volume back up and putting it off to the side.

"You broke into the apartment of your little crush?" Len asks in disbelief, scoffing at the stammered excuses that fly from Jim's mouth. "Don't deny it, you watch him every time you get, and you call him _hot recluse._ You have such a big crush I don't know whether its adorable or sickening."

"Whatever, Len. I'm bringing him a temporary lock while I try and fix the one I broke." He says, ignoring the waves of amusement he can feel wafting off of his friend. Of course, the amusement over his not a crush is overshadowing the worry that lingers from the night before. Of course it is.

"You finally get to play with one of those fancy ass locks, now, don't you?" Len leans against the door frame, a brow raised at his friend.

Jim shrugs, trying to hide the excitement he feels at getting his hands on the new piece of technology. "At the expense of his door and safety, though. Which—I feel bad about."

"But also pretty pleased as well." Len says, and Jim—well, Jim doesn't deny it.

* * *

 **Jim:** Spock, it's Jim—your surprise guest? I found that lock for you, if you're home I'll go ahead and bring it up to install it.

 **Spock:** That sounds acceptable. I am home now; the door will be unlocked—as you know.

 **Jim:** Ha ha. I'm on my way.

* * *

Jim knocks and waits a moment for a response before deciding to open it anyways. "Hey, Spock. It's me."

"I assumed so." Spock says, exiting the kitchen and walking towards him.

Jim smiles at him, rocking back on his heels. "I'm going to put the lock on for you now. Just thought I should tell you before I go messing around your wall."

Spock inclines his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Thank you, Jim."

"No problem, I owe you anyways." He shrugs. "I'll just do that now." Turning on his heel he does as he said, fitting the lock into the way and making sure that it's ready before calling out for Spock.

"Alright, I got it all set, you just need to put in a code and you'll be all good to go!"

"Thank you, Jim." Spock nods, stepping out into the hall and pulling up the screen to enter his code.

"You're welcome, Spock." Jim smiles. "I gotta go now, going to look at the other lock. Talk to you later." He waits for a goodbye before turning and walking away.

* * *

"You're like a child with a new toy." Len drawls, amusement lacing his tone and looking over Jim's shoulder at the pieces of machinery scattered about their dining room table. "Kid, you know you have to get that back to him sooner rather than later, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. His new lock is doing him fine right now; he's enjoying it." Jim says absentmindedly, looking around for a specific part he needs.

"Oh? And how would you know that?" Len asks.

"He told me. We've talked about it." Jim waves his phone at him, huffing in annoyance when it's snatched out of his hands but not fighting to get it back. It won't do him any good, and he knows it; might as well admit defeat now and ignore his friend's sounds of amusement as he continues to piece together his project.

"Jim, you've hit full blown school girl crush." Len announces, closing the thread and putting the phone down on the table. "I'm gonna make us some lunch."

"Yeah, sure. Sounds good." Jim hums in response to Len's mumbling, smirking at his friend's antics. He's good company, for all of his grouchy personality.

* * *

 **Jim:** My roommate is forcing me out for the night. For once, I actually just want to stay in.

 **Spock:** Why do you not tell him that?

 **Jim:** It's the anniversary of his divorce. Gotta go for support.

 **Spock:** That is an admirable thing to do, showing your friend support when you would rather be elsewhere.

 **Jim:** Nah, he'd do the same for me. _Has_ done the same for me.

 **Jim:** Anyway, if I don't answer, that's why.

 **Spock:** Thank you for letting me know.

 **Jim:** No problem, Spock.

* * *

He knocks on the door in front of him, listening for the sound of feet that preludes its opening. Jim smiles tiredly at Spock, grateful when he steps aside and lets him in. The door shuts softly behind him, heat radiating off Spock's body onto his own as he follows behind him to the couch. He sits down, limbs sprawling out as he looks toward the ceiling and sighs.

"How is your friend?" Spock asks, rummaging around the kitchen and coming back with a glass of water that he hands to Jim. He sits down with a reasonable distance between them and turns his body towards him.

"Alright. He drank an entire bottle of whiskey by himself, like he tends to do on this day. I put him in bed, made sure he drank some water before he passed out. He'll wake up like a bear tomorrow." He sips at the water, looking over at Spock. "We've worked it out over the years that he likes to be alone when he wakes up. Always keep our phones ready in case he needs me, though."

"Where do you typically stay, when this occurs?"

"Either at a friends or a hotel for the night." Finishing half the glass and done for the moment Jim sets it down on the coffee table. "Probably going to stay in one for the night."

"You can stay here, Jim." Spock says softly, catching his eye and holding. "The spare bed is made."

Jim smiles, his hand resting briefly on Spock's thigh. "Thanks."

"You are welcome," He says, the heat of his touch a brand he can feel through the fabric of his jeans. Having him stay for the night is far from a hardship.

* * *

Jim wakes the next morning well rested and ready for the day.

He enjoys the softness of the sheets surrounding him for a bit before getting up for the day, checking that Len doesn't need him before shuffling his way out of the room and towards the kitchen where Spock is already up and preparing breakfast.

"Morning," he accepts the coffee cup he presents him with a smile, adding sugar and creamer to it, stirring it together before taking his first sip. "Sleep well?"

"I did. And you?" Spock asks, setting a plate of scrambled eggs on the table, a stack of toast already there and waiting.

"Yeah, your sheets are great."

"Thank you." Spock says, hiding his amusement behind a slice of toast, spreading jelly across it before taking a bite.

"You're welcome." Jim adds pepper to his eggs, shooting him a small grin before he begins to eat.

They share their breakfast in an easy quiet, just enjoying one another's company. When Jim leaves they share a moment at the door, lingering in each other's space before separating.

* * *

 **Jim:** I'm just about done with it, finally.

 **Spock:** It only took you two weeks.

 **Jim:** Hey, I just wanted to make sure it was perfect before giving it back.

 **Spock:** I am sure that is why. Will I be seeing you soon?

 **Jim:** I'd say in the next thirty minutes or so.

 **Spock:** That is agreeable. Would you care to stay for dinner?

 **Jim:** Love to.

* * *

He gets the old lock out and the new lock in in record time, a grin on his face and a bounce in his step the entire time. Jim is almost as excited for Spock to see the improvements he's made to it as he is for the dinner that's ready to be had as soon as he's done. He can feel Spock's eyes on him as he finishes up, leaving tingles along his skin.

"There, done. Just need you to put that lock code in and you're all set!" Jim steps back so he can step forward, looking away as he puts in the code. When Spock is done he follows him inside, walking to the kitchen as he locks up behind him. They share a small, nervous look before sitting, making their plates while they make small talk. It's as awkward as it is exhilarating, and judging by the soft touches and heated glances Jim can guess that his feelings are definitely reciprocated.

When they're done eating Jim migrates to the living room, running his fingers along the records while Spock puts away the leftovers. He joins him once he's done, long fingers slipping a record out of its packaging and setting it on the player. The soft sounds of Frank Sinatra fill the air as Spock turns to him, eyes searching his face before settling on his lips.

"Jim."

He licks his lips, watching Spock watch him. "Yeah?"

"I would like…to date you." Fondness floods Jim at his words, knowing from past conversations just how much it meant to him to actually say those words.

"I'd like that to." He smiles around the words before cupping his cheeks in his hands and leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. It's nothing more than a gentle meeting of their lips, but Jim feels the warmth of it deep in his bones. He pulls back after a moment, looking at the peace on his face, watching his eyelashes flutter, his breath catching at the depth of emotions he sees in them.

Spock's hands settle at his hips while he leans in for more, their lips brushing once, twice, before settling in the type of kiss Jim knows he'll quickly grow addicted to. When Spock's tongue presses for entrance that he grants with a small moan, a distant part of Jim thanks his inebriated self for bringing him to this; as their kiss becomes more and more heated, slow in the best possible way, he's beyond grateful that he's awful at resisting temptation.

Because this? This is something great.

* * *

 **Jim:** You know, if I hadn't broken in last year, we may never have gotten together.

 **Spock:** Thank you, Jim, for breaking my lock and sleeping on my couch.

 **Spock:** Thank you for startling me on an otherwise normal night.

 **Jim:** You're welcome, Spock. ;)

 **Jim:** I love you.

 **Spock:** And I you.

 **Jim:** 3

* * *

 _Will I ever catch up and stay caught up? The world may never know._

 _...I pictured the owl, and now I want a lollipop. Gah._

 _Let me know what you think? I rather like it, myself. And that's not just because it's the longest piece so far._

 _PS. Because I know it'll take it away, in case you didn't guess, the last thing Jim texts him is a heart._


	16. Again and Again

_I'm crazy tired, and I really hope that doesn't reflect in this. Also, be prepared for more detail during ~those~ scenes than the last time. It got away from me, just a bit._

 _Word Count: 3,136. I can't even express how thrilled I am about that, I just - *happy flails*_

* * *

We fucked once and somehow keep bumping into each other AU

* * *

Spock was not into one night stands, but for him, he would make an exception. The other man was charming, charismatic; his eyes alone were striking, but when added with a mischievous grin and a smooth voice, there was not much else to do but allow yourself to be drawn in.

When he had first made his way over and started talking to him, Spock was not sure what to do. The attention was flattering to be sure, but not what he came to the bar for; he wanted nothing but to relax after a long day at work. Soon though, he found himself stumbling into a conversation, leaning into the touches and touching tentatively in return.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Jim asks softly, the heat in his eyes an undeniable clue to what he was hoping they would do. Spock stares at him as he thinks it over, finding the decision not to be wise but for once wanting to follow through on a bad decision instead of doing the smart thing, as he was known to do.

"Yes." His response is just as soft but twice as firm. He can tell by the startled smile it was not the answer Jim was expecting but rather the one he was hoping for; they pay their separate tabs and Spock follows him out of the bar, attention caught by the breadth of his shoulders and the way his hair curls just so at the back of neck. The cab ride to Spock's apartment is tense with anticipation, and when they arrive he pays the driver with hands that ache to touch.

He leads the way inside the buildings front door and to the elevator, then down the hall and to his own door, unlocking it faster than he ever has before. Spock barely gets the door closed and locked behind them when Jim is on him, lips on his own and hands tangling in his hair. He meets him with equal enthusiasm, tugging for a moment at Jim's jacket before he gets it off, his own following soon after.

Tongues grabble for dominance as they move away from the door, clothes flying in random directions until they're in nothing but their boxers and Spock's boxed into the wall outside his bedroom, Jim pressing close to him as he trails blazing kisses along his jaw and down his neck. Spock's fingers tangle in his hair the further down his body he kisses, breath catching when he mouths at his hardness through his boxers.

His name is a soft exhalation of breath, head arched back as he tugs the last of his clothes away and gets his mouth on him for real, groaning at the heat that engulfs him. He lets himself get lost to sensation, and before he knows it he's giving a warning before finding his release. Spock is soft and pliant after that, chasing the taste of himself as they stumble their way to his bed; his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he lays down, Jim following him down and further up as he scoots them back.

Their mouths are still locked together in a kiss, and they don't break until Jim pulls back, straddling his waist and looking down at him with swollen lips. "Where's your lube?" he asks, running his hands down Spock's chest and ignoring his own hardness that just begged for touch.

"Bedside dresser, top drawer, along with condoms." Spock answers, watching Jim crawl to his dresser and dig the aforementioned items out and toss them down on the bed, next to Spock's head.

"Do you want to, or should I?" Jim asks, rubbing his thumb on his nipple and watching it perk.

Spock thinks about it for a moment before grabbing the lube and handing it over to him. "You."

Jim grins at him and accepts it, popping the lid as he scoots down to kneel between his legs. Spock watches him get ready to prepare him, taking a deep breath to help him relax at the first easy press of one of his fingers. By the time he's three fingers in Spock is a writhing, moaning mess, unable to hold anything back about how he's making him feel. He watches through heavy lidded eyes as Jim grabs the condom packet, feeling empty for the length of time it takes him to roll it on and slowly enter him.

Wrapping his legs around his waist Spock reaches up to grab his face and bring it down for a sloppy kiss, nipping at his lower lip, easing the sting with his tongue. Jim groans his name into the kiss, his hips moving slowly in tandem with Spock's. It's almost too much and yet not enough all at once, and Spock is glad that he silenced that large part of him that had wanted to do the logical thing earlier in the evening and leave that bar without him.

Spock rocks into the easy pace, hands gliding over sweaty skin, wanting to touch as much of him as he can. Jim has a hand on his hip, fingers gripping tight and the other pressed into the mattress by his side. The way they move is almost familiar, though Spock knows that to be an impossibility. But he cannot deny the ease in which they move together, how full he feels or the thrill he gets each time Jim brushes their lips together.

The longer they move the sloppier the kisses become until it's nothing more than an open mouthed, pant of thing, their fingers tangling together as Jim's thrusts lose their rhythm and turn frantic. Jim is sure to keep them deep, deliberately pressing against the bundle of nerves Spock has never been able to find on his own, until Spock is gripping tight at his hands, the sounds he releases urging him on until they both find their release, bodies drawn tight and then relaxing together.

Jim lays atop him as they catch their breath, easing out of him when they've both calmed. Spock watches him as he ties off and throws away the condom, disappearing into the connecting bathroom and returning with a washcloth that he hands over to him. Spock cleans himself as Jim dresses, taking the now dirty cloth from him and putting it in the bathroom as Spock gets out of bed and dresses in pajamas.

He walks him to his front door, staring at him and unsure what to say next. The way Jim smiles at him it's as if he knows what he's thinking; when he's in the hall he steps forward and presses one last soft kiss to his lips. "Goodbye, Spock."

"Goodbye, Jim." He watches him walk away before stepping inside and closing the door. Spock locks it with the memory of his lips pressed so gently to his playing in his mind on repeat.

* * *

The first time Spock sees Jim again after their night spent together, the question of who is more surprised is hard to answer. Considering how he had never seen him around before that night, Spock doubted that he would see him around after. To find out that he as close to Doctor McCoy as he appears to be makes a certain kind of sense.

Nyota invited him to join her and a small number of her friends for dinner and as it had been so long since he had seen her, Spock was quick to agree. It was not hard to find the restaurant she had told him they would be, and after a brief moment of interaction with the hostess Spock has found himself at the table where Nyota sat, accepting the kiss to his cheek that she gives in greeting. He is not a very physically affectionate person, but he had quickly come to accept that small act, because it reminds him of his mother and she is someone that he misses intensely.

It is not until he has sat down beside her that his eyes find Jim's, Nyota giving an unnecessary introduction before he can fully comprehend the situation.

"Spock, this is Jim. He's a friend of Leonard's, and new to the area. Jim, this is Spock."

"Hey there, Spock. It's nice to meet you." Jim says, his smile on the mischievous side as he holds his hand out for a shake.

The moment their hands meet he has a flash of how they touched the last time they saw one another. "It is nice to meet you as well, Jim."

He is sure to let go before the touch can linger, not wanting to draw Nyota's attention off of Christine and onto them; she did not know about that night two weeks ago, and Spock would prefer if it stays that way. Judging by the smirk on Doctor McCoy's face, he can assume that Jim told him of it—he can only hope that the man will make no mention of that night.

Luck is on his side during dinner; besides a teasing look—that is also on the smug side, Spock notes—here and there, McCoy manages to keep his mouth shut, which is a truly remarkable feat.

When everyone goes their separate ways once they've finished and paid for their meals, there is an undeniable moment between him and Jim; as they exit the restaurant there is a crowd also entering, and Jim's chest is flush against his back in the time it takes to get through.

Spock is only half ashamed of the fact that he focuses on the solid wall of heat Jim was as he brings himself to completion later that night.

* * *

The next time he sees Jim, it is at a distance and just for a moment.

Spock is on his lunch break, and due to how nice the weather is he walks from his work to the sandwich shop he prefers, wanting to enjoy the sunshine and cool breeze. It is as he is waiting to cross the road that he sees him; Jim is across the street, fidgeting with his keys as he discusses something intently over the phone with someone.

Before he can look away their eyes meet, and the sight of him licking his lips sends a tingle down his spine. Jim is the first to look away, sliding into the car that pulls up in front of him.

Spock almost misses his turn to cross, stuck how he is on the way the sun seemed to make him glow.

* * *

Spock sees him next when he is on his way to a dinner with his father; he is in a rush, and as such almost misses him entirely. Their arms brush as they pass one another, and the warmth of the touch lingers during his meal and well into the night.

The intensity of his eyes and the soft smile he had been given follow him into his dreams.

"Well hi Spock, fancy running into you here." The southern drawl is familiar, and Spock lowers his book, turning in his seat to find McCoy standing before him with Jim at his side.

"Hello, McCoy. Jim," He greets them both, making sure his stare does not linger when he looks over at Jim.

"Hey, Spock." Jim smiles at him, eyes traveling over his face before venturing further down. Spock is momentarily caught by the way a simple glance over makes him feel, a light blush dusting is cheeks.

"You don't mind if we join you for lunch, now do you?" McCoy asks, not waiting for a response before dragging the seat across from him out and falling into the seat. "Thanks." His grin is unsettling; Spock has never seen it, and the fact that it is directed at him—combined with a hint of mischief in his eyes—sets him on edge.

As Spock tries to find a response Jim sits as well, in the chair between them. With the size of the table their knees are pressed together, and the point of contact instantly catches his attention. He is resigned to his lunch being commandeered when the waitress comes back and they order their drinks, as well as their food without having to glance at the menus she offers.

Bookmarking his place, he orders as well, setting the book aside. While he had intended to spend the time there reading, he cannot deny that spending time listening to Jim's voice is time well spent. Though he could have done without the teasing they endure from the other man at the table; the thing that makes it bearable is that throughout their lunch, Jim's knee stays pressed to his.

The smiles he gifts him with certainly help, as well.

* * *

Their next meeting is the most surprising to date. The ballroom was crowded, well dressed people of varying ages roaming about and 'shmoozing', to quote his mother. He was there because his father asked him to be, and it was an auction for a charity they both held dear to their heart.

Spock went into the evening with low expectations, knowing he would donate money before he left and counting down the hours to when he could do so. He had just set his empty wine glass on a passing tray when it happened, and he is very glad of the fact; when he turns he crashes into another body, hands automatically grapping their arms so that they do not fall back.

When he looks up he sees that it is Jim, and his heart skips a beat before settling into a slow race. "Hello, Jim." He says softly, releasing his arms one he is sure that Jim is steady.

Jim's smile is bright and a delight to watch spread across his face. "Spock! Hey, it's good to see you."

"And you as well. Have you been here long?" Spock asks.

"Just half an hour or so." Jim replies. "You?"

"Since it began; my father is a large part of the organization behind the event." They fall into step with each other as they circuit the room, stopping here and there when something catches their interest.

Once he is in Jim's company, the evening goes better than Spock originally expected it to. Conversation flows easily between them, and when it comes time to go home, Spock wants nothing more than to stay.

* * *

By this point, Spock has ceased to be surprised by Jim showing up where he least expected him to be. He is more elated to see him than anything, and when Jim asks him if he would like to get a coffee he promptly agrees. Conversation flows easily between them, and this time, Spock is the one who puts forth the offer.

"Jim? Would you like to take this somewhere more…private?" He asks softly, the touch to his hand, stroking down the palm before laying his own flat on Jim's a clear indicator to what he means.

"I'd like that." Jim responds, linking their fingers and lifting them, brushing his lips lightly over Spock's hand. The small touch prompts a small exhalation of air, and he uses their connection to lead the way out of the coffee shop and to his car. They separate to enter it, the ride to his apartment filled with small talk, the promise of more a strong undercurrent.

Their hands find each other again during the walk up to his apartment, and unlike the last time they found themselves here the first kiss is gentle, more of a brush of lips than anything. It is perfect, and on a small hum of sound Spock deepens it, slowly brushing Jim's jacket off, his shirt following after; Spock runs hungry hands along soft flesh, nipping at his jaw while Jim tugs his shirt off.

As their lips find each other again Spock herds Jim to the couch, straddling his lap so that they don't break contact. Jim pulls back from the kiss for air and Spock takes the opportunity presented to trail wet kisses along his jaw, nipping in the places he knows make Jim moan. It is as Spock is leaving a mark on his collarbone that he gets his hands between them, popping their buttons and tugging down zippers. He pulls back just enough that he can watch as he frees them both from their boxers, catching Jim's eyes as he wraps a hand around them both.

He moans and the sound is echoed, Jim drawing the tip of an ear in his teeth, something that never fails to draw a shiver from Spock. His hips buck, grip tightening just enough; they kiss heatedly, Jim's hands clenched tight on Spock's thighs. A well placed swipe of Spock's thumb brings Jim to completion, and the sound he makes is almost enough to have Spock join him as well.

"I want you, this time." He pants the words into Jim's ear, his hand lazily stroking as he waits for a response.

"Yes, Spock, fuck." Jim responds enthusiastically, swooping in for a brief, hard kiss. "Let's get to your bed, now."

In the distance between the couch and bed they lose the rest of their clothes, falling to his bed a naked tangle. They lose themselves each other's mouths, until Jim shifts and Spock's hardness presses into his thigh. Spock pulls away to grab the lube and a condom, and before long he is buried in Jim, his knees hooked over Spock's shoulders.

Jim is the one who gets them moving, their hips rolling in a dance Spock wants to do with Jim again and again; his name is a shout out of Jim's mouth, Spock gasping his in return when they roll right over that edge.

* * *

When Spock wakes the morning after he is on his side and curled around Jim, arm draped over his side and fingers laying linked together atop his stomach. Jim is using his arm as a pillow, and though it has long gone numb he does not want to move. The position is something he had managed to avoid finding himself in in past relationships, but with Jim he hopes that he will wake in this manner for many mornings to come.

From how deeply he is breathing Spock knows Jim is still asleep; when he wakes, and after Spock has provided him with breakfast, he is going to ask him to share with him something more, because his feelings for the other man are more than just mere friendship. But until he can ask that he is content to press closer, to brush his mouth across the back of Jim's neck in a soft kiss, and revel in the wonderful delight it is to wake up with him in his arms.

* * *

 _Sleep sounds fabulous right now, my gosh. I'm running on fumes right now._

 _Let me know what you think? I love to hear from you!_


	17. Sunlight in a Storm

_A note explaining why it's taken me until like the middle of May to get another chapter up will be at the end. Sorry, guys. I fail._

 _Word Count: 491 ...sigh._

* * *

Has to share a cab because there's a thunderstorm ahead (and then gets stuck in ridiculous NY/LA traffic) AU

* * *

Jim really should have listened harder when his brother warned him about the type of weather New York has. Everyone knows that it's a busy city, and that it actually had seasons unlike the last place Jim had lived. Considering that he grew up in Iowa and knew how to live in an area that had rain, sun and snow, Jim thought that living in New York would be fine; been there, done that.

Turns out, he was wrong.

Living in California really spoiled him, especially the area he went to school in; it was perpetually sunny and warm, and even when it was cold and wet it did not last for very long. Jim grew way too accustomed to that, and the first few months in the new city were hard; he was just glad that his best friend moved there first, because he was able to move the easily damageable things with him, instead of when he was finally able to make his way out there. It was rainy there already—luckily, the last of the things that he needed to move in were the clothes that he had kept with him; as such, they were all in suitcases and the move into the apartment was the easiest one yet.

It took him a while to get used to having all the season again, but once he did it was like he had never been apart from it. Though on the days that were particularly wet he would think back fondly of the sunny weather he would have been enjoying back in California.

That day was one of those times; Jim had a late start, and had to scramble to find everything and be bundled up enough that his mother hen of a roommate wouldn't have anything to say about him staying warm. He made it to the office with only seconds to spare, and the hours that followed were not any better. Jim had never had a day go so spectacularly bad in a series of small ways, and he wished he wouldn't have to deal with it again.

It only made sense, he supposed, that he would end up in the backseat of a cab with a stranger, a situation made even _more_ stilted and awkward when they found themselves stuck in ridiculous traffic because it was just not his day.

Jim wasn't sure how they got started in a conversation, but he knew that by the time they made it to his destination he didn't want to stop. Spock was a great conversationalist, a bit awkward but adorable for it. He wanted to get to know him more—the decision to exchange numbers was entirely mutual.

Later on, when there is a stream of cold rainy days, instead of thinking back on California sunshine he will think instead of the warmth to Spock smile, and how a thunderstorm brought him to the love of his life.

* * *

 _So, I had a spectacular amount of bad mental health days in a row and then it was my birthday and then! More bad days and an anniversary of the death of one of my favorite people in the world._

 _I'm still not in the best place but I've been thinking about this fic and how much I want to write and so I'm dragging all the words out of me that I can. I'm sorry if this and the following prompt fills aren't up to par with the first 16._

 _Let me know what you think?_


	18. You'll Remember Me

_You are all so very sweet and the best readers a writer could ask for 3 Though this chapter isn't, uh, the happiest one, I hope that it's a worthy thank you for all your patience and kind words~_

 _Warning for this? Character death. I thought I was going to be able to avoid that, but for this prompt, it just screamed it at me. Sorry guys._

 _Also, I almost forgot that POV jumps between the two. Hope that isn't too confusing._

 _Word Count: 922_

* * *

Gang member AU

* * *

"Spock, you can't be here. You're going to get in trouble." Jim's voice is low, as soft as it is gruff. Spock has never heard him sound like that before.

"Jim, I needed to see you." Spock follows his lead and pitches his voice low as well, not sure why they should not be overheard but knowing Jim would not do so if he did not have a good reason.

"I told you, we can't see each other anymore. For _both_ of our safety." Jim stresses, moving closer; under the shield of Spock's torso he splays his fingers out across his stomach, a brief moment of contact and warmth, and all that he can offer now.

* * *

 _Meeting Spock was an accident, one that Jim_ _wishes hadn't happened as much as he's grateful for the fact that it did. With his kind of lifestyle, getting attached isn't a good thing. He's seen families be torn apart and used as leverage too many times to ever consider it a valid option in life. Even those that are born_ into _the '_ _ **family'**_ _aren't safe._

 _But then, on a seemingly normal day, when the sky was overcast and Jim was alone for the first time in_ months, _there Spock was, in all of his endearing, shining glory. Walking towards him was like an out of body experience; Jim didn't know he was going to do until he had done it, and by that time there was nothing to do but go with it._

 _That first conversation was more stimulating than anything he had ever experienced to date._

* * *

"Jim," Spock sighs, missing the hand the moment it is gone. "I cannot let you go, not like that…not like _this_."

"Spock…" Jim chews briefly on his lower lip and peers up at Spock from beneath long lashes. He is gorgeous, and Spock aches to reach out and touch. "I didn't tell you we were over as a joke." Jim steps back from him, face going hard and blank, something it had never been with him before. In an instant, he misses the openness that once was there.

Spock's breath catches and though he knows it is an impossibility, in that moment he feels his heart break.

* * *

 _It wasn't long before more than their conversations were stimulating; making the transition from friends to lovers was one of the easiest things he's ever done, and happens almost without effort. Hiding who he really is, sneaking about to spend as much time as he can with Spock—it's exhausting and exhilarating all at once._

 _If they get caught, he knows that one or both of them are done for. But he's finding it harder and harder to stay away._

* * *

"You need to leave, and you need to leave _now._ Don't make me repeat myself, Spock."

Spock can't hide his flinch at the words, at the threat he can hear behind them. He's never heard Jim sound like that, and it's not pleasant in the slightest. Though a large part of him is urging him to take heed and do as he says, he finds himself unable to move away from where he is.

He has this gut feeling that something is going to go wrong, but he can't get himself to do as he says.

* * *

 _The end comes quicker than Jim thought it would, and breaking things off with him destroys a piece of him he thought long dead. He loves Spock more than he ever thought it was possible to love someone; he's more than once entertained the thought of breaking away from the family and running off with him._

 _That's what gets to them, in the end. His change in attitude gets noticed, and before he knows it he's being watched closely in a manner he knows means no good._

 _Watching the way Spock cracks before him when he tells him that they can't see each other anymore is excruciating—but he knows seeing him lifeless before him would be worse. Jim would sooner break both their hearts a hundred times over than to see that happen._

* * *

Spock notices when the cars arrive, catches the way Jim tenses at the footsteps that reverberate through the halls. He finds himself tensing in response, eyes caught on the dread and resignation in Jim's eyes, the way his face abruptly smooths out and becomes cold.

He's so focused on Jim, so lost in watching the man he loves seemingly disappear before his eyes that he fails to catch the steps that sounds behind him, fails to hear the that sharp unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

All Spock manages to catch is the way Jim's entire being becomes dim, lifeless, before his own does the very same.

The softly uttered **"I'm so sorry, Spock."** the last thing he ever hears.

* * *

 _Jim hums happily into the kiss, threading his fingers through soft hair. Spock's hands are a gentle touch at his hips—a heat he can feel through his clothes. When the kiss ends Jim rests his forehead on Spock's, opening his eyes and catching the fondness in warm brown, something that always catches him off guard and makes his heart skip a beat._

" _I love you." Spock whispers against his lips, ignorant to the fact that saying so puts the final nail in his coffin._

 _And though his heart has already begun to break, Jim finds himself saying it back, those three little words leaving his throat as easy as breathing. "I love you."_

* * *

 _Well. Now that I've done that, I think I'll go ahead and work on getting another -happy!- chapter out to you all tomorrow. The words are flowing so much smoother lately, it's great._

 _Let me know what you think?_


	19. To Start Again

_Hello, all! I'm going to save what I have to say for the end notes. I hope that you enjoy this!_

 _Word Count: 2,349_

* * *

 _Best friends when we were young and then you moved and now we meet again at college AU_

* * *

Jim's first memory of Spock is blurry at best, but the fondness and affection he feels for him is not. His feelings for him have always been strong, even if they haven't always been _good._ That was never a problem for them. His next memory of him is clearer, but not the one he likes to think about; it's of the day he left, and neither one of them were very kind to each other. But for all of that, Jim has always counted Spock as his best friend.

* * *

" _You know that's not how you do it right?" Jim said as way of introduction, scrambling up onto the porch where the other boy sat. "You need to wiggle it, not push it!" How he didn't understand that, Jim didn't know. Grabbing the toys from his hands in a manner he will never grow out of, Jim puts actions to words and hands back the toy he'd taken. "There! See?"_

 _The other boy looked from the toy to him, blinking at him with dark brown eyes. "Thank you," he finally said, inclining his head. "Though it is considered rude to take something from another person without asking."_

 _Jim's brow furrowed, taking a moment to process what he said. "But I wanted to fix it for you. I'll ask next time though, 'kay?" His face brightened once again, before he stuck his hand out to him. "I'm Jim!"_

" _I am Spock," They shook hands, and started a beautiful friendship._

* * *

" _Why do you have to leave, Spock? It's not fair. I thought you said you guys were staying until after you'd finished at school." Jim grumbled, lips downturned in a pout._

" _You have said that already, Jim." Spock huffed, calmly folding his clothes and setting them into the awaiting box._

" _Well you haven't answered me!" Jim complained, throwing himself backwards on Spock's bed and glaring up at the ceiling._

" _That is untrue." Spock turned to Jim, fighting back the wave of feeling seeing him always brought. "I explained on the phone last night, and again when you showed up unexpectedly. Why can you not understand." He asked, starting to get frustrated._

 _Sitting upright Jim transferred his glare from the ceiling to Spock. "Why are you being such an asshole, Spock? Aren't you upset about this at all?"_

 _Spine stiffening Spock returned the glare, ice entering his voice. "It is not my fault, James, that your family does not care enough to find the money to send you, as well. Please desist lashing out at me."_

 _Jim's face closed off, his voice coming out in a stiff monotone neither had ever heard him use before. "At least my family isn't shipping me off because they don't want me around anymore."_

 _Rage like he had never known overtook Spock, and his next words came out stifled. "Get out of my home, Jim. I do not want you here."_

" _Glady," Jim sneered, stomping out of his room, ramming his shoulder into Spock's on the way. It would be the last time they spoke for years._

* * *

Meeting him again in his first month of college is something he was ill prepared for. Yeah, he had thought about seeing Spock again over the years, but he never figured that it would _actually happen._ The fact that it did throws him off balance for weeks, not that he ever lets on to that fact. Jim isn't ashamed to admit that he avoids him for months after that; the fact that Spock seems to be avoiding him in returns certainly helps with that.

* * *

 _He's running late to a class, the first time he sees him again. It's not one that he'll fail if he misses a day, true, but he's actually_ trying _here. Getting into this college was a miracle in and of itself, and if he was going to prove his family wrong, he had to do the best that he could. And he would, he had no doubt about that._

 _Jim is mere feet away when someone else on their way to class in a hurry bumps into him, knocking into his open backpack and spilling everything on the floor. They don't stop, barely throw an 'I'm sorry' over their shoulder as they go. It's as he's crouched down, gathering his things and putting them into his pack, that he sees him._

 _At first, he's just a pair of shoes hanging in the edges of his vision, then a dark pair of slacks, and it's not until a slender hand is handing over his planner and he's looking up to say a 'thank you' that he sees the older, mature face of his childhood best friend. The words stick to his tongue, and it's as if their frozen in place once they lock eyes._

"… _thanks, Spock." Jim forces out from between his lips, taking the planner from his slack grip and putting it in his backpack, zipping it up to avoid this situation happening again._

" _You are welcome Jim." The words are stilted, and as awkward as they feel._

" _Um…bye." Jim is up and rushing towards his class before Spock can even open his mouth._

* * *

By the time they can no longer avoid one another, Jim has found a deep friendship in his roommate Leonard, and has built a rapport with multiple others as well. The fact that he'll have support behind him if their meeting again goes poorly helps accepting the possibility immensely.

* * *

 _First time he meets Leonard, it's like something has clicked into place. It's not quite what he felt with Spock, but it's still something he never expected to find. He's in the school's nurse's office thanks to an allergic reaction, and the southern doctor is the one who's treating him and berating him, all at once. Leonard is the big brother he always wanted growing up, and he's grateful to have found him. Even if sometimes he's too much a protective best friend._

 _Meeting Scotty is a more amusing experience than he can describe. All he can say is that he'll never doubt his own ability to get his way out of a potentially bad situation again._

 _Jim meets Chekov by chance; the kid is a genius, true, but also younger than everyone around—which, unfortunately, makes him a bit of a social outcast. He feels bad for him and understands having no one, so the decision to make friends with him is easy. Having him around is like having an adorable younger brother who looks up to you always hanging around and it helps to keep him on track._

 _It's through them that he meets Uhura and Sulu, and having them as a part of his family is greater than he can describe._

* * *

When it finally does happen he's alone, looking over his class notes as he makes his way to his bike. His attention is solely focused on the paper before him, so the fact that he crashes into him isn't a surprise to him; no, the only surprise is that Spock was so unfocused—or focused, if you preferred to see it that way—that he ran into him in return. Luckily for them both neither one of them falls to the floor, but they do find their balance precarious for a short time.

The resulting conversation is unbelievably tense, and makes Jim yearn for the days when they were closer than blood. He walks away feeling unbalanced and in need of a strong shot of something, anything that will distract him.

The next few times they run into one another are as awkward as the first, until one day Jim looks up from the book that Spock had recommended to him and realizes that they've become friendly again. It's not quite what it used to be, but it's more than he ever thought they would be again.

* * *

 _The less said about their first meeting the better; all Jim could think about was the things they had said to one another that last time they were together as children and it makes even just looking at him hard. He's not sure how he made it through the rest of that day, but he knows he has Chekov and Leonard to thank for it._

 _When they see each other again after that, it's when they're sitting alone in a secluded part of the library. It turns out to be the best thing, because the things that are aired aren't pleasant, and would have surely gotten them kicked out. It's good, though, because Jim gets to walk away feeling as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders._

 _The third time they meet is awkward, and they avoid mentioning their families as much as they can. Jim opens up the conversation talking about a book he had read, and things go from there. It's nice, even though it ends on a slightly sour note, thanks to Leonard showing up and glaring until they've separated. His best friend is a tad protective, and, he soon discovers, so is Chekov, who shows up and drags him away with barely any time to say goodbye._

 _It's not until that day when they're at lunch and he's reading that recommended book that he feels things are changing for the better. He can't stop smiling at him, and he knows it shows. The only thing that would make it better would be if they could become what they used to be._

* * *

The transition from friendly to friendship to more happens so smoothly that Jim doesn't know what to think; it feels, to him, that one moment they're tip toeing around a friendship that never should have ended and the next they're stealing kisses under any and every piece of mistletoe they can find.

* * *

" _You know that I was just upset that you were leaving, right? Did you ever understand that?" Jim brings up one day, as they're sitting in a coffee shop near campus. It's one they like to frequent when they meet up, and want to get away from his friends._

 _Spock is silent for a moment, setting aside his book to give Jim his full attention. "After some time, yes, that did occur to me. I was the first one to emotionally provoke you, Jim, and I apologize for that as well."_

 _Jim shrugs a shoulder, fiddling with his coffee cup. "We were kids, Spock. Lonely, pretty messed up kids to tell the truth. I'm just surprised we didn't lash out like that sooner." He sighs, shoving his mug forward and slouching back in his seat. "I'm always gonna regret the way we ended it, though."_

" _I will as well, Jim."_

* * *

" _Leonard will warm up to you one day, you know. He's just…well, a better big brother than Sam ever was." Jim admits quietly while they watch their friends set up the table for Thanksgiving dinner. Though the groups initial introduction to him was frosty, it didn't take long for them to accept Spock into the fold of their family like he had always been there._

" _I am grateful that he is." Spock looks over at him, his features soft. "You deserve that, Jim." The sincerity in his voice has him blushing. "Even if he does not accept me as whole heartedly as the rest of your family has, it would still be fine."_

" _Well, he's going to accept you and that's that." Jim says, and walks away before he can embarrass himself any further. For the rest of the night, he can feel Spock's eyes tracking him around the room._

" _Spock! Finally, I thought you would never show up!" Jim exclaims, shooting forward and tucking at his coat, hanging it up before dragging him into the kitchen. "Here, let's get you something to drink! What took you so long anyways?"_

" _I was on the phone with my mother, Jim. She says hello and sends her best." Spock accepts the glass he thrusts in his hands, taking a small sip—ah, eggnog._

" _Let her know the same, will you?" Jim says, grabbing his own glass. "Now come on, we waited for you to start the movie, didn't want you to miss anything."_

" _Thank you, Jim." Spock smiles softly at him._

" _Wait a second, lads! You're under the mistletoe!" Scotty calls from the living room, stopping them in their tracks._

" _What?" Jim asks, following the Scotts finger to the top of the doorframe, True to his words, there was a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the frame. "Where the hell did that come from?"_

" _Don't know, but you know what they say—can't move until you share a kiss!" Sulu announces happier than he has any right to. Jim squints at him, turning from him to Spock._

" _We don't have to, Spock. It's not like it's a real rule or anything." Jim says softly, stuffing his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders in preparation of the rejection he knows is coming._

" _It is fine, Jim. It will not bother me, if it does not bother you." Spock says, waiting until he sees an okay in Jim's eyes before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his lips. It's electrifying, and Jim presses into it, starts another kiss when it ends—and again and again until their friends let loose with catcalls and they have to break away._

* * *

It doesn't take long, though, for him to settle into the new direction his life is taking him. In what feels like no time at all he's in a long-term relationship with his childhood best friend and eagerly looking forward to what the future has not only in store for him and Spock, but all of their friends.

And anytime he starts to wonder how he ever arrived to where he was and if he even deserved it, one touch, one glance from Spock has all his worries and doubts fading away and more love than he knows what to do with flooding back in, and he finds himself settled once again.

* * *

 _So I am so sorry that it's taken me so long to get this out! ;/ But, I do have another one finished and ready to be posted later today! And at least four more started!_

 _It's been...crazy in my rl. The past like, 6 months I went through three jobs and now I'm currently working at two and it's crazy busy 'round here. But! I really want to get this finished and honestly, getting the two prompts done that I have made me seriously happy. So, here's to hoping that continues!_


	20. Retail Affair

_So it is later than I had hoped to get it up, but work dinners and dance recitals took up my time. That said, enjoy!_

 _Word Count: 2,240_

* * *

 _Customer that knows wayyyy more than the brand new employee please help me out AU_

* * *

Jim should have never been hired for this job. He knew it, Leonard knew it, the people who _hired_ him knew it. But when Winona Kirk, the towns saddest, loneliest widow crawls out of her pot of misery to ask you to hire her delinquent son, it's hard to say no.

In hindsight, they all wish they had.

The problem wasn't that he wasn't friendly, or able to make sales—he could pitch with the best of them; no, the issue lay in the fact that he had no _interest_ in what they were selling and so he tended to forget the little things.

Leonard had accused him of doing that on purpose, since they both knew he was beyond capable of it. He was, in truth, over qualified for the job. If he put in the effort he _could_ be promoted, and for a time he entertained the idea. But then, _he_ showed up and changed everything.

* * *

Jim first saw him towards the end of his second week on the job; the fact that he was from out of town was only too obvious—he knew everyone in town. Plus, from his instant gut reaction to the guy, Jim 'Tomcat' Kirk would have tried to get with him a long time ago. Spock was ridiculously beautiful.

It really wasn't fair of him, and the fact that it threw off his game (something he would only admit under extreme pressure) both irked and excited him. They could really be something, possibly something _life-changing_ —if they were to happen, he knew. And that was as thrilling as it was terrifying.

The knowledge of that is probably what set Jim back; if Spock had been anyone else, he would have been all over him in a heartbeat. As it was he couldn't stop the small flirtation and the things he did (and shouldn't have, job wise) to see that cool façade crack just that small amount that he let it. Jim loves that he was the only one to get under Spock's skin that way. He was pulling his pigtails in a big way, and he didn't need Leonard's snarky comments to know it. Jim entertained thoughts of stopping that, on occasion, but it was so much fun to do.

* * *

"...this is the newest brand, but, I don't know-I've heard mixed reviews about it. The old brand has mixed reviews too, though, so it's really up what you feel like I guess?" Jim said, adding a confused scrunch of the nose to up the ridiculous of his statement. He almost felt bad for the woman who had asked for his opinion, but only almost-she was standing before him with a bit of a vacant look in her eyes and was nodding along like she had any idea what he was saying. Yeah, half of what he was saying was solely said to goad Spock into butting in and correcting him, but the other half came about because he has the feeling she asked only so she could get him to speak with the hopes of getting him into bed.

While that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, he was pretty intent on Spock at the moment; that, and he refused to be another notch in her bedpost. Her, according to Leonard, spotty bedpost. Though he didn't say what, exactly, she had that he had to stay away from-doctor patient confidentiality and all that-he certainly left enough hints for Jim to know he didn't want to get near her with a ten-foot pole.

To be honest, he's hoping that Spock is going to lose patience soon so he could be free of her without having to cause a ruckus that could get him in trouble. As much trouble as they can, anyways, which is never a lot. Otherwise he would be rid of this place by now. The amount of relief he feels when he catches Spock making his way over is, in all honestly, a tad embarrassing. And he couldn't care less.

"That brand, Jim, is currently the best on the market." Spock sounds just as flabbergasted as he ever does, his brow showing his irritation. "You should not be trying to sell her the old brand, unless you wish for her to come back within the week to purchase this item." That brow is now raised and aimed at Jim, and it's not hard to hear what he is really asking-does Jim want her to return for his own gain?

The answer to that is only too easy.

"Well, you heard the man, Elise-this," he hands her the box in sedate wrapping, tucking the brightly colored monstrosity that was the other option under his arm. "Is the way to go. I hope that was helpful!" His grin is bright and plastic, something Elise appears to miss, judging by the flutter of eyelashes and purr of a goodbye he receives in response.

Once she is out of sight he indulges in a small shudder. "Well, hopefully she won't be back anytime soon!" Jim mutters, turning to Spock. The way his mouth softens into a real, pleased smile is something he has no control over. "Hey there, Spock. And how are you today?" he asks honestly.

"I am well, Jim." Spock steps closer, avoiding the people who have no sense of personal space and walked into the aisle behind them entirely too close to him. "How are you?"

"Better now," he admits with a shy grin, rocking back on his heels. "Can I help you with anything today?"

"Actually...yes." Spock pauses, and Jim is treated to the rare, endearing sight of a flush rising in his cheeks. He watches, fascinated, as it spreads to the tips of his ears. It is probably the most adorable thing he's ever seen. "I was curious if you would join me for a meal, tonight." The way he stumbles over his words is a close second, so much so that it takes him a moment to process the words.

"I would love to, Spock." He smiles, the grin broadening as Spock's blush darkens. "Where did you have in mind?"

"I have heard good reviews about the new restaurant on 4th; would that be acceptable?" Spock asks.

"Sounds great," Jim responds. "I get off about four-thirty...does five sound good to you? I'll meet you there?"

"That sounds adequate. I will see you this evening." Spock inclines his head; this stiff and unsure motion Jim can't get enough of. He smiles in return and enjoys watching him walk away. The rest of Jim's shift can't go fast enough; just the thought of finally seeing him outside of this place and in normal clothes has him longing for time to go by faster.

* * *

By the time five o'clock came 'round Jim was standing in front of the restaurant door, dressed in his most flattering outfit-a pair of jeans that hugged his ass, a tight white top that showed his muscles in a tasteful way, and his favorite, go to leather jacket. He felt as good as he looked, though if those pesky nerves would just disappear he would be feeling ten times better. As soon as his watch beeped the hour he stepped inside, walking confidently to the host and informing him who he was looking for.

When they came up to the table and Jim had his first look at Spock, he could swear his heart stopped. He was currently reading a book while he waited for him; Jim watched his index finger slowly make its way down the page before he slipped it behind the paper and flipped the page. Even though he was there to be on what was, more than likely, a date, he still found himself wishing that the host had waited just a bit longer to open his mouth so he could watch that process from the start.

The warm, pleased to see him shine in Spock's eyes once he caught sight of him certainly made up for it, though.

Sitting down across from him, Jim took a moment just to drink him in. Spock had changed out of his earlier outfit and into something nicer, though his book bag Jim never saw him without sat on the floor beside him. He's always wondered just what he kept in there, and now knew—books, just like the name of it suggested.

"Hey, Spock." Jim said softly, lips ticking up at the corner in a warm smile.

"Hello, Jim." Spock replied in kind, eyes roaming his face and catching on his smile before the tension that had lingered in his frame drained away.

"Do you have any idea what you want?" Jim asked, hoping to open the conversation with him on a topic that was easy.

"They have a vegetarian lasagna that my mother recommended," Spock answered, opening the menu and looking for the meal in question. Jim opened his own menu and did the same, looking at the ingredients listed to make sure that if he ordered it, he wouldn't have an allergic reaction. Having your face swell up and turn an ugly red, and the resulting come down where he just tried to feel and breath normal again was a mood killer—and he knew that from personal experience.

"That doesn't sound half-bad," Jim admits, chewing on his bottom lip as he further contemplates the decision. "I think I'll get that, too." He decides with a half nod, looking up to find Spock looking at him with an expression he can't read. "What?"

"Nothing, Jim." Spock smiles at him and Jim finds himself struck with the want to feel it pressed to his lips, yet again. It isn't a sight he has been able to see very often; from what he's heard about him from around town it's a rare sight.

"You sure 'bout that?"

"I am positive." Jim didn't believe him but let it go; it wasn't like the look was a bad one, necessarily, and he was sure that he would figure it out, eventually. As it was he just gave a soft hum, quirking his brows at him before turning to the waiter to place his order.

Once he had left with their orders in hand the table was silent for a minute before Jim opened up the conversation again by asking him what he had been reading. Watching Spock's face light up with enthusiasm while they talked about the book, and then the passion the science debate afterwards brought to his voice, unnoticeable unless you knew what you were looking for—well. They hardly noticed when their food was brought to the table, or when the empty plates were cleared and another glass of water had been placed before each of them.

By the time the evening was drawing to a close, Jim didn't want to leave. Spock was even more intriguing than he had first thought, and the want to get to know him better, deeper, was strong. If Spock didn't say anything about meeting up again, he certainly would.

Only, after they had paid, left a tip, and walked out into the cool night air, he realized that he didn't have to worry about it. They had walked until they were stopped in front of Spock's car, facing on another under the glow of a streetlight. Their conversation came to a natural pause, and they fell into a quiet that was more comfortable than it had any right to be, even with the small spark of tension that was in it.

"Thanks for inviting me out tonight, Spock. I had a great time." Jim finally said, smiling that scant inch up at him.

"You're welcome, Jim. I rather enjoyed your company as well." Spock admits, stepping closer before continuing. "I would like to do it again, if that would please you."

"That would please me greatly," Jim grins, struck again by just how much he enjoys listening to him speak. It's endearing, and he could happily listen to him all day.

Spock's answering grin is shy, but bright, and Jim is focused on it when Spock leans in and brushes their lips together, this soft and sweet thing that knocks the breath out of him. When he pulls away his face is bright, and Jim has to cup his face in his hands and pull him into another kiss. Another follows it, and another, until Spock's hands are holding him close and Jim's lost himself in his mouth.

By the time they pull apart minutes have past; they share this deep look, desire tinged, and Jim finds himself leaning back in for one more soft brush of lips before they pull apart.

"I will see you tomorrow, Jim." Spock's voice is pleasingly husky, and the only reason he doesn't follow it with another kiss is the fact that he's stepped further away, hand on the door handle of his car. It's a question said as a statement, and Jim can tell that he's waiting for his answer.

"Yeah, you will." He agrees, grinning brightly and receiving a smile in return. "Goodnight, Spock."

"Goodnight, Jim." Spock gets into his car, and Jim watches him leave, not moving until the car is out of sight. Rocking back on his heels, thinking on Spock and feeling almost weightless and tingly, he chuckles and smiles up at the stars.

 _I can't wait._

* * *

 _Had to tweak the ending a bit before posting, but I still love it all. Thanks for reading! :)_


	21. Changing History

_I'm so late with all of everything and I'm sorry and it's so short but I hope that you like it anyways? *face plants*_

 _Word Count: 249_

* * *

We rob places together as a couple and get away with it AU

* * *

The day Spock met Jim is the day history changed forever. If the two had not met, Spock would have followed in his father's footsteps and gotten into politics. Jim would have become too cocky, and lose his life in a heist gone wrong.

But, as it stood, the two did meet, on a warm summer day, in a place neither would be expected to be found in. Spock was hiding from his father, taking a day to do what _he_ wanted and discover what he wanted out of life. Jim, on the other hand, was hiding from trouble he'd already crashed into.

That first meet was anything but perfect and yet they found themselves pulled towards there and one another again and again, like they were magnets that could not bear to part. The first heist together was an accident, the second a fluke, and the third a mess. And yet they went for it again, and that fourth? What a rush it was.

In another fairy tale, in another time, their story would have ended in a bang—Jim and Spock would have said goodbye to one another and the world in a blaze of glory. But in this story, their luck is changed for the better. For not only do they live, they _thrive._ The two are a force to be reckoned with.

Their life and love was one out of the story books, a fairytale gone crooked. And they wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

 _I...am a fail. But! I'm working on like...four other prompts at the moment so fingers crossed, everyone!_


	22. Kiss to Start

_I stayed up late to finish this. #sorrynotsorry ,sleep schedule!_

 _Word Count: 1,349 (hopefully, that makes up for the shortness of last chapter!)_

* * *

We're literally the only two kids who ride this school bus maybe we should carpool or make out or something AU

* * *

Jim missed his bike. The freedom of it, how quickly he was able to get from point A to point B, the fact that it was solely _his._ If anyone asked, he would say no the crash wasn't his fault despite what that grumpy doctor thought at the hospital he was fine. He didn't understand why the man made such a big deal over a little bit of bumps and bruises.

It was not like anyone else thought he was that badly off. Hell, his mom and step dad barely noticed a difference and his brother? Well, he took one look at him and said 'Told you so', and that was that.

He was all healed now, besides a few aches in places, and more than ready to get back on his bike. But, he had yet to be able to get all the pieces needed to fix it up again and so he was left bumming a ride or walking. And when it came to school, he had to ride a bus just like all the other kids. Being as far out in the country as he was the only other person who had to ride the bus that far out was that weirdly proper kid that no one really knew, or talked to.

It's not like he was a bad guy, he was just a little strange and new to a very small town. After a week of quiet rides and boredom Jim decided it was high time to try and actually start talking to the guy. Which, really, was easier said than done.

"Hey, Spock." Jim opened with and slid into the seat in front of him, turning around and propping his arm on top of it. His words just earned him a faintly muttered hello in response; Spock didn't even glance up from the book in his hands. Not one to be easily deterred, Jim tried again. "So, what are you reading?"

"A book I highly doubt you would be interested in." Spock responded, turning to a new page. Jim tsked and raised his brows.

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't interested," Spock let out a quiet sigh, placing his finger at his spot in the page and finally looking up at Jim. "It is the latest novel concerning the possibility of space travel, by Nero."

"Oh yeah? It any good?" Jim asked. "We any closer than the last book he put out?"

Spock looks at him with an expression he could only describe as impressed disbelief. "You read Nero?"

"Well, yeah. It wasn't as good as S. Montgomery's book, though. That one? More realistic." Jim could see his mouth opening to respond in kind, but it came just a moment too late. The bus came to a stop and it was Jim's turn to get off. Grabbing his backpack, he hooked it onto his shoulder and stood in one fluid motion. "See you tomorrow, Spock." He said, smiling cheekily, hardly even waiting for a response before he walked off.

After that, it was like the floodgates had been opened. That next week they started from sitting in the same spot, to going from sitting across the aisle from each other—talking about the latest novels in a variety of subjects—before they finally found themselves sitting next to one another from the start of the ride home, enthusiastically talking about any manner of things.

The passion in which Spock spoke caught Jim's interest, and certainly made him curious in what that passion would be like if directed in another direction. It took him barely a second to decide that he wanted to find out.

"Hey, Spock…wanna make out?" Jim asked, interrupting Spock mid spiel. His words sputtered to a slow stop, and he turned to more fully face Jim.

"Pardon?" Spock asked, words stilted.

"I said, do you wanna make out?" Jim asked again, turning just enough that their thighs pressed together. "It's just the two of us; you know the bus driver doesn't pay us any attention, especially not when we're all the way in back like this."

Spock blinked. "I…will think about this."

Jim, pretty much having expected that response—or worse—just nodded. "Alright. It's my stop right now, anyways. I'll see you tomorrow." He waited for Spock's nod and quiet goodbye in response before leaving.

Once the bus was emptied besides the two the next day Jim turned to Spock, who had been quiet the whole way. It was hard to tell what his answer was going to be. Refusing to fidget in his seat, Jim nervously licked at his lips instead. It proved to be the right decision, for Jim caught the way Spock's eyes were drawn to the movement. A small smirk played at his lips as he inched closer, eyes flickering between deep brown eyes and slightly parted lips.

"So, did you make a decision?" Jim asked, voice low.

"Yes. I…would like to…" Spock trailed off, a flush rising in his cheeks.

"Make out?" Jim finished for him, moving in and pressing a light kiss to his lips once he heard a soft 'yes'. He waited until he felt Spock press back into the kiss to deepen it, framing his face in his hands. The low noise Spock made when Jim nips at his lower lip ignites something that had sparked the first time they touched; Jim's hands slide up, fingers tangling in silky hair as he slips his tongue between parted lips, a soft noise of his own sounding when Spock inches closer, a hand cupping the back of his neck as the kiss becomes steamier.

By the time Jim reluctantly parts from Spock they're both breathing heavily, lips swollen and eyes glassy. Jim would like nothing more than to toss a leg over Spock's thighs and follow the movement until he's sat on his lap, to follow that action with another intense kiss, but before he can even move the bus has lurched to a stop and he knows it's his turn to leave. Reluctantly he pulls himself free, grabbing his backpack off the floor and standing on less than sturdy legs. He can't help but dart in for one more kiss, sighing his goodbye onto Spock's mouth,

"How do you feel about motorcycles?" Jim panted, pulling back far enough to see Spock's face.

It had been two weeks since that first kiss, and each bus ride since had found the two locked at the lips as soon as they were able. They would spend the time until Jim's stop kissing, bodies pressed close and hands exploring as much as they could without being caught by the driver—who, really, paid them no mind. Jim wasn't sure he even realized what they got up to in the back, and if he was the man never let onto it. If he ever were to, Jim knew that Spock would put a stop to what they were doing, and Jim did not want that.

"I am not opposed to them, assuming they are being driven responsibly." Spock replied, a small furrow marking his brow.

"That's good," Jim leaned in and kissed him again. "Cause mines fixed up, so I can start taking us home, instead. And maybe getting a little lost, along the way." He grinned, rubbing a finger along the top of Spock's ear—which, for some reason, he found ridiculously cute.

"I am assuming it would take us some time to find our way home." Spock mused, smiling faintly back at him.

"Of course," Jim replied, his grin broadening.

"I suppose that would be acceptable." Spock announced. Jim pressed his laugh to his lips, keeping the kiss soft and find.

"Great. I wouldn't have it any other way." Jim said. "Now, where were we?" He added huskily, pleased when Spock answered with a deep kiss that he felt in his toes. As he curled his fingers in Spock's hair, Jim found himself unbelievably grateful to the small accident that had left Jim forced to use public transportation, and ultimately, to Spock.

* * *

 _So! Just to keep you guys updated on my progress, here's some info dump._

 _There are eight left, only two of which aren't started. One is very close to being finished, and another will be probably be around the same amount of words as last chapter. Also, one of the prompts I forgot that I started it so it has a start from both Jim and Spock's POV so you may just end up with an extra chapter because I like the flow to both._

 _Anywho! I hope to upload another later today (when it's the afternoon and not 3 o'clock in the morning, whoops) and hopefully the short one as well, so be on the lookout for that!_

 _Thanks for reading! :)_


	23. In Temperament and Heart

_So I really enjoy this one, and I hope that you do as well!_

 _Word Count: 427_

* * *

Modern day beauty and the beast AU

* * *

Their tale begins as things such as this often do—on a dark and stormy night, once upon a time. Spock was the oft cold second son of a well to do family, James the wild and free unwanted son of a starship Captain's widow. One could say the story starts on the day that James trades his hard-earned freedom for the life and safety of the brother of his heart. But argument could also be made for the story really begins on that cold day Spock closed the door to a person in need.

Whichever way the story starts, one thing remains a constant: that the two could not be any further apart in temperament and heart. For James had Leonard and Spock had no one but himself. There has never been an agreement as to what happens next; did Leonard stumble across a home out of time—with its gothic pillars and heavy arches—and find a man who appeared as if he should be a creature in a dark fairy tale, and attempt to defend himself only to be kept ahold of?

Or was Spock only going about his day when some small-town doctor found his way into his home and subsequently react to his presence in such a manner that he had no choice but to lock him away? Whichever way was truth, there were certain facts that never changed; Leonard found himself someplace that he should not be and Spock's encounter had left him irrevocably changed and not for the better.

How James had come to find himself there no one quite knows. But seemingly between one moment and the next Leonard is at home wearing a hole into the carpet and James is in constant company with someone he knows not at all. It's a bleak looking situation, and they cannot see the light at the end.

But, as in all fairy tales, though the future may look bleak to those involved the reality is a far different outcome. For as time went on they slowly grew closer, and closer, until the day came that James could be free and he found himself wanting nothing more than to stay—for always, and forever.

At first, of course, he left; after all that time spend yearning to be free, with a heart brother waiting at home, how could he not? But as time went on he found himself missing Spock more and more. The day he chose to go back and fall into a kiss, was the day that he found home.

* * *

 _So, was it okay? It didn't throw anyone off or anything? I really hope not because seriously I love it. *flails* Thanks for reading, everyone! ^^_


	24. Trying Something New

_Guys. I started this back in like...May of '16. Damn. *hides in shame*_

 _Word Count: 2,299_

* * *

So YOU'RE the douchebag who keeps mowing their lawn while I'm trying to sleep AU

* * *

Jim is the first to admit that when he's running on low hours of sleep, he's not the kindest person around. He turns into a grouch and until he's been able to get his nine hours of sleep, he's a bit pouty as well—though that's only according to Bones. Jim pouts only when it's convenient for him, thank you very much.

Most days, Jim gets a decent amount of sleep because he happens to be the owner of the bar he works at which means his hours get to be whenever the heck he wants, and that's his favorite thing. But sometimes, even he gets pulled in or has to stay weird hours because he has to cover a shift or go over inventory and the numbers. It wouldn't be that big of a deal, if it weren't for the neighbor he's never interacted with and his crazy yard work schedule.

See, most of the neighborhood does their yard work on the weekend because they have no time during the week—which, who does? Certainly not anyone Jim knows. But the guy who lives next to him—who, according to the gossip, is a published author working on his next story—is home twenty-four/seven, it seems, and as such does his yard work to a schedule that Jim hasn't been able to figure out. It wouldn't be so bad, honestly, if it weren't for the fact that his mowing days always seemed to coincide with the days that Jim is trying to catch up on his sleep.

And in this particular instance, he's just come off three back to back days of weird hours, numbers crunching, and scrambling to figure out what the _hell_ went wrong with this month's order because things sure as hell weren't coming in correctly, if at all. When he _finally_ got everything sorted and left Sulu in charge so he could go home and catch up on some much-needed sleep, his mood was understandably irate when he was woken four hours into his rest to the grating noise of a lawn mower.

But only, of course, to all of those who know him well.

When the engine of what had to be an old ass lawn mower made its way into his unconscious and hauls him out of a deep sleep, Jim has to take a moment to just _breath_ so that he won't go out swinging. It just barely works, and when he stumbles his way out of bed and to his front porch in nothing but a ratty old t-shirt and boxers, the glare he gives the man is hot enough to burn.

Of course, it's hard to glare someone's face off when they don't even notice or acknowledge you because they're so focused on getting the lawnmower from point A to point B. As he makes his way off his porch and across soft grass to the short fence that separates their yards, he finds some of his ire slowly easing out and being replaced with amusement at the sight before him. It's obvious that the man is struggling, and the intense concentration on his face is—admittedly—adorable.

Leaning on the fence Jim stands and watches until the weight of his gaze causes him to look up, raising a brow when the man gives him a quick look over. He waits for him to turn the engine off, the neighborhood finally blessedly silent before opening his mouth. "Do you wait until people are asleep on purpose, or is your luck just that good?"

It takes a long moment for the other man to reply, and when he does Jim is instantly taken in by his voice. "As it is almost noon, I had assumed that everyone would be awake by now." His eyes track a slow line up and down Jim's torso, one brow arched sharply.

"Yeah, well." Jim huffs, irritated all over again at the tone he can just _feel_ from that brow alone. "Obviously, you were wrong."

"So it would seem."

They stand there in silence for a minute, Jim's sleepy imagination likening it to an old fashioned, western stare off. When he starts to see a badge gleaming instead of _whatever_ it is that's glaring at him, he decides it's time to skip back to bed. Sighing, he straightens from his lean on the fence, fighting—and failing—against a yawn.

"Just…if you would stop for the day, that'd be—great." That said Jim spins and walks back inside, ignoring the fact that he could feel his neighbor's gaze on him the entire way.

* * *

When Jim wakes up next, he's feeling way more human and rested enough that he feels the _slightest_ bit embarrassed about the way he stomped about earlier. Not enough to never do it again, though. At some point, he knows, he should go and apologize for his cranky behavior. But for now he was just going to enjoy a long, luxurious shower before enjoying a cold sandwich in front of the TV.

It isn't until later, when he's stretching out sleep stiff muscles that imagining Jo's disappointed face and sweet little voice scolding her 'Unca Jim' that drives him to get presentable enough to go and face his neighbor. He walks over with his hands stuffed in his pockets, a cheery whistle passing its way through his lips. In no time at all he is next door, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits for his knock to be answered.

When the door finally opens and his neighbor is standing before him once again, Jim is struck by how _handsome_ the man is, when he's not looking at him through sleep-angry eyes. Jim's so struck by this fact that it takes him a moment to notice that they had been standing in silence since the door opened what feels like minutes ago; with an awkward sounding clearing of the throat, he opens his mouth and issues his apology.

"I'm sorry about this morning. It was...a long couple of days, and running on very little sleep makes me a bit—well, cranky."

His neighbor inclines his head, a move Jim refuses to think is adorable. "Apology accepted."

Smiling, Jim holds out his hand. "I'm Jim, by the way. I don't think we've been properly introduced yet."

The hand that encloses his is warm, and smooth in all the ways that Jim's is not. "I am Spock."

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you then, Spock."

"And you as well, Jim."

* * *

Jim's next meeting with his neighbor goes much more smoothly—not that that was very hard to accomplish. He catches Spock outside at his mailbox, a steadily growing stack of envelopes in his hands. Jim is just coming in from a lunch out with friends—that was also a bit of a business lunch, as well, considering all he hired were his friends in the first place.

"Hey Spock." He says as he opens his own mailbox, "How are ya?"

"I am well, Jim. And yourself?" Spock asks.

"Good, good." Jim closes the latch and holds his stack of mail under his arm and against his torso. He leans on the mailbox with his other arm laid across the top of it. "How's that new novel going?"

Spock raises a brow at him, shuffling his mail until it's all even. "It is going." His reply is short, and Jim can't help but think that he touched a nerve. "That is a very personal question, Jim." he scolds, and Jim grins.

"Sorry," They both know that he really isn't. "You should try getting out and doing something new, if you're having troubles. Shake things up a little. That should help a bit, yeah?"

"It is possible, yes." That brow is raised again, a quirk he can't help but watch. "Did you have any suggestions?"

"I might, yeah." Jim smiles, a bit on the bashful side. "You could always go on a date with me. That's something new,"

His words hang in the air long enough for him to begin to feel the edges of worry. Spock's lips twitch in the beginnings of a smile before he overcomes it. "Yes, that would be. When would you like to go on this date?"

"Is tonight okay with you?" Jim asks.

"Yes," Spock nods.

"Great, I'll meet you here at five?"

"Yes, I will see you then." Spock inclines his head in goodbye, and Jim watches him walk away.

* * *

Jim spends the hours leading up to the date in a state of high nerves. By the time five o'clock rolls around he's bouncing in place on Spock's front porch. He presses the doorbell quickly, chewing on the inside of his lower lip as he patiently waits for a response. Jim didn't have to wait long; just moments after Spock opens the door, his frame loosening when he catches sight of Jim standing before him with a smile on his lips.

"Hey, Spock. Ready to go?" he asks.

"I am, Jim." Spock replies, stepping out and locking the door behind him. "Where are we going for dinner?" He asks, following after Jim.

"There's this restaurant maybe fifteen minutes away that has a pretty diverse menu," Jim answers, stopping before his motorcycle and turning to Spock. "Is riding my motorcycle okay with you, or would you rather take your car?"

Spock takes but a moment to decide. "In keeping with the theme of 'something new', I would not be averse to traveling on your motorcycle."

Jim's smile is wide and excited. "Great! Here," He hands him the spare helmet, making sure that everything fits comfortably before settling into his seat. Jim patiently instructs him in where and how to sit, giving pointers and tips about what to do while they were on the move and making sure that Spock understood everything before finally setting off.

True to his estimate it takes them fifteen minutes to arrive at their destination, time Jim spent trying not to focus on how nice Spock's hands felt on his hips. Once parked, helmets set aside and hair smoothed back into place, Jim chances a glance over at Spock, mouth ticking up at the corner at the flush on his cheeks.

"Not bad, right?" he asked, straightening out Spock's jacket before grabbing his hand and gently steering him to the door.

"It was pleasant." Spock agrees, nodding in thanks when Jim holds the door open for him. "I look forward to the drive back."

"Me too. Just two," Jim informs the hostess, following her to an intimate booth in the far corner of the restaurant. There is no one around them, and the feeling of privacy is very appreciated. Opening the menu, he sneaks a glance up at Spock, taking a moment to watch him peruse his own.

"You are correct, Jim. This menu is very diverse." A small smile plays at the corner of his mouth. "I appreciate your choice in dining; their vegetarian selection is larger than the norm."

"Do you usually have trouble with that?" Jim asks, genuinely curious.

"Finding a vegetarian menu is not difficult, but they tend to be quite small." Spock says, placing his menu down once he's decided what he wants.

"I guess I've never really paid attention to it." Jim puts his menu down as well and is just leaning in to say more when the waiter comes around to take their drink orders. He sighs inwardly and orders a Pepsi, waiting until Spock has put in his own request and the man has left the table to try once again.

Conversation from there went smoothly, stopping only briefly when they had to take their orders, and to say their thank you's when their dinners were brought out. And despite that small fear Jim felt earlier things felt more natural and went so much more smoothly then he could have ever hoped for. When the time comes around to pay the check, Jim finds himself not wanting to leave.

If this were any other person, or any other date, Jim knows that he would pulled out all the stops. Helping to put on the helmet so that he'd be close, trailing fingers and locking gazes and letting intensity build, so that on the way back there would be teasing touches and holds just this side of scandalous. If Spock were like any other person who struck a spark too quickly, they'd go home, they would sleep together, and that burn would be gone.

That one night would be all they had and they would split ways and be nothing but friendly if they ever saw each other again. It was how almost every date Jim went on ended; even the ones that turned into short relationships never lasted very long. But with Spock? With him, Jim wants to take it slow. He wants shy glances, innocent hand holding, dates that end with kisses that leave you counting down the hours until it can happen again.

With Spock, Jim wants to do it right, for he knows, down in his gut, that this is a man he could spend the rest of his life with. And that? That is definitely worth taking it slow for. So once the bill has been paid and the two have made their way outside, Jim is going to hand Spock the helmet, letting his fingers graze across his and smiling so soft, just a small tip of the lips that he's been told is an endearing sight. And he's going to take them home, parking in his own driveway so that he can walk Spock to his door, where they will share the sweetest kiss Jim's ever had.

And that night, is only their beginning.

* * *

 _Hope that you enjoyed! There should be another one up very soon, and I'm working on the rest! The hope is to have them all finished before April. Because yes, even though I failed last year I want to give it another go. Good luck to me, huh?_


	25. Thirty Minute Delay

_So here's that next one for you all! It's a short and sweet meet-cute this time, but I hope that you enjoy it anyhow!_

 _Word Count: 717 ;o_

* * *

We get seated next to each other on a delayed flight AU

* * *

One of the worst things that can happen on a flight, in Jim's opinion, is when one is delayed. It's annoying and inconvenient and if one isn't lucky, they get stuck next to the worst passenger in the world. Jim has just as much bad luck as he does good, and so the number of times he's been sat next to a nervous flier, someone who stinks to high heaven, or an _overly friendly_ passenger is borderline ridiculous. Turbulence isn't fun, either, but he would take that over a bad seat buddy any day.

So when, once he's settled in his seat and his neighbor for the next six hours is as well, and that announcement is aired over the loudspeakers that they'll be delayed for at least thirty minutes or more? Well, Jim is ready to hop out of his seat and _walk_ there. There had been nothing to indicate so far that says the passenger next to him is going to be a bad seat buddy, but with the way his day had been going thus far he didn't want to take the chances.

Unfortunately for him, though, he's not left with an option either way; looking back towards the back, half-risen out of his seat, Jim saw that the stewardess' were closing the doors and doing all the final preparations. Slowly sinking back into his seat with a sigh Jim leaned back, trying to get comfortable for what would surely be a long wait. Flicking a piece of lint off his pants he stole a glance at his neighbor.

The first thing Jim noticed was how pale the man was; the next, the outdated bowl cut that showcased ears that were slightly pointed. They looked faintly elf like and Jim found himself staring for a long moment. When he finally pulled his gaze away it was to find a pool of chocolate staring back at him. Caught, Jim chose to let his default smirk adorn his lips.

"Hey," He greeted.

"Hello." The softly spoken word washed over him in a smooth wave.

Jim introduced himself, waiting until Spock did the same to start his assessment. Off first glance, Jim could say that the man would be a bit on the awkwardly formal side. Second glance through confirms that suspicion but also adds that he is obviously some type of intellectual, based off what little he can see of the guy's carry-on. It seems he is also open to Jim's attention, which is promising for the time they will be stuck sitting here unable to go anywhere.

Shifting so that he faced Spock, Jim smiled charmingly. "So, where—or what—are you headed for?" he asked.

"There is a conference I am due to speak at." Spock answered, adjusting the bag at his feet. "And you, Jim?"

"Also going to a conference; I'm not speaking but a friend is. I'm actually going to surprise him." The smile that adorned his lips is fond." Pasha is going to be surprised and I can't wait to see it."

"You are going to see Chekov Pavel?" Spock asked, looking at Jim with new interest.

Jim nodded. "Yeah, he's a good friend. Basically a little brother."

"I am looking forward to hearing him speak." Spock admitted.

"Are you two in the same field?" asked Jim.

"Not quite. I am, however, interested in his. He is quite young to have accomplished all that he has." The admiration in his tone had Jim grinning.

"The kid's a genius." He stated proudly.

"Have you two known each other long?" Spock asked, the question leading from one story to another, until before they knew it hours had passed and they are not only finally airborne but more than halfway to their destination. And despite all odds, the conversation continued to flow smoothly; Jim was honestly surprised about that.

While he is more than capable of holding a decent conversation with a total stranger, he had never done so with such _comfort._ He doesn't want it to end, and as Jim and Spock have a moment of soft, electrifying accidental touch, he finds himself planning all the ways he could turn this must-be-fate meeting into a real, lasting thing. Because he had a feeling that Spock was someone he would not want to miss.

* * *

 _So in a lot of the fanfics I've read for this fandom they call Chekov 'Pasha' and I think it's adorable. ^_^_

 _See you guys soon! :D_


	26. Poolside Savior

_*drops off and runs away*_

 _Word Count: 797_

* * *

Dude I know we don't know each other but my swim trunks came off when I jumped in the water can you grab them for me AU

* * *

Jim was not a person who became embarrassed easily; with the amount of shit he got into, he would have exploded into billions of tiny pieces years ago. That being said, he wouldn't say that he doesn't get embarrassed, because, well—he can remember in unfortunate vivid detail times he's found himself bright red and wishing the ground would swallow him whole. Thankfully, despite the odds, that wasn't the case today.

See, it all started when Bones decided he needed to go to the local pool, so that he could flirt with that pretty new life guard that they had hired. And Jim, being the good friend that he is, decided to go with so that his best friend's intentions would not be so obvious. He even drove them there in one of his dad's vintage cars, and was on his semi-best behavior so that Bones could get the girl and not have to leave in the middle of flirting like he did the last time they went somewhere for him to do so; it was not an occasion they talked about, because it's on his list of embarrassing days.

Things started off without a hitch; they arrive, get some soda, and find the best spots to sit with their feet in the water and have a view of the life guard stand. They talk, and Jim finds his eyes drifting towards the other end of the pool and lingering on the man who walked in with Uhura and her friends—a face he has never seen before, and one with a slim, muscled figure he is far from subtle in eyeing.

He will admit to staring a tad longer than is probably appropriate, but how could he not when the man looks like that?

"I'm gettin' a refill. Try not to stare too long, eh Jim?" Bones claps his hand to his shoulder, using it as support when he stands.

"Shut up and go get your girl." Jim laughs at the one finger salute he gets in reply.

Leaning back, he takes a moment to break his watching of the handsome stranger to turn his gaze to Bones, watching as he walks to the concession stand and meets up with his crush, who must be on her break. He waits to see if it's going in a good direction before turning back to where the man had last stood and frowning when he's not there. Jim shoves the disappointment of that aside with a shrug and pushes up, scooping his drink up for a quick swig before turning to the deep end of the pool.

Jim walks to the diving board, takes a deep breath and executes a flawless dive.

It's not until he is coming back up that he realizes with a jolt of panic that his swim trunks are long gone.

Mentally cursing up a storm he swims to the edge before surfacing, sticking to the side before turning his face to look frantically for his shorts. He finds them near the diving board and bites down on his lower lip as he tries to figure out the best way to get them without letting his problem be known. He is starting to lose all hope when he glances up to see that handsome stranger slipping in a few feet from him.

Jim leans in towards him, letting out a low-pitched 'psst', beyond glad when he is actually heard. The guy raises a brow to him, and Jim waves him over. He sighs but does so anyways.

"Can I help you?" His voice makes him want to melt, not that this is the right moment for that.

"Yeah. I'm stuck in a bit of a predicament…do you think you could get me those swim trunks over there?" he asks low, tilting his head in the direction of his shorts. "I'm Jim, by the way."

"Spock." The man states him his name, before giving him a short nod and swimming away. Jim waits tensely until he pops back around, dark hair plastered to his forehead. He silently hands over his shorts and does the last thing Jim expects. With a terse "Be quick," he swims closer, acting as a shield so that Jim can dress himself without fear of being caught.

It's probably one of the nicest things anyone has done for him, showing that decency without any hesitation.

When finally covered, Jim turns and shoots him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Spock."

"Not a problem, Jim." Spock replies, the flush tinting his face catching Jim's eye. They stay like that, gazes caught for who knows how long, and Jim finds his mind free of anything but one person for the first time in forever—something new and exciting he fervently hopes he can make stick.

* * *

 _As ever, please, let me know what you think!_


	27. Butterflies In The Tummy

_I adore this one so much, you don't even know._

 _:D_

 _Word Count: 528_

* * *

Pretending to date bc reasons AU

* * *

Jim loves Spock the best. Bones is awesome too, but Spock is an _alien_. He has ears like an elf! Plus, he makes Jim feel like butterflies are flying in his tummy and when their fingers touch it's like the way the best hug feels.

So when Nyota comes to school and won't leave him alone, Jim knows what he has to do.

"'Yota!" Jim yells across the playground, stomping his way to them.

"What do you want, Jim?" Nyota frowns, planting her hands on her hips, turned to face him.

Spock stands next to her, shifting away now that her attention is off of him. Jim doesn't like that his eyebrows are pinched like mama's are when uncle Frank comes around.

"Leave Spock alone, he doesn't like when you do that." Jim states. She had had her hands on him! Touching his hair and shirt and all in his space like he doesn't like. Only Jim could do that because Spock loved Jim best, too. Even if he wouldn't admit it. Jim knew because Spock never let anyone else touch him except his mom and she's his _very_ favorite.

Jim grabs onto Spock's sleeve and pulls him unresistingly to his side.

"But you did it, too!" Nyota stomps her foot and reaches out to pull Spock back, huffing when Jim moves and blocks her access. "Jim!"

"You can't do that, 'Yota! Spock's my boyfriend, not yours. Go play house with Scotty!" Jim holds Spock's hand to make his point clear. Though he blushes Spock doesn't tell her he's lying or scoot away.

"You're mean, Jim." Nyota pouts, running off to find Scotty. Jim doesn't feel bad, though, because he knows she didn't mean it and that before Spock came Scotty was her favorite to play house with. And when he looks over to them, Scotty has a big smile on his face and Nyota is happily playing again.

"Jim, we are not boyfriends." Spock finally says, though he doesn't let go of his hand. "You lied to Nyota."

"'Yota wouldn't leave you alone if I didn't though." Jim explains, starting to frown when Spock doesn't relax. "Do you want me to leave, too?"

The eyebrows start to look like when Mr. Pike and mama have their grown-up talks. "Why would I want you to leave, Jim?"

"'Cause you still don't look happy. I'm sorry I lied." Jim says quietly, letting go of his hand; he's starting to feel sad, and wants to leave before he cries—Sam says only babies do that, and Jim is not a baby.

But as he starts to move Spock grabs his hand, shocking him to a stop. Spock's _never_ done that before. "Thank you, Jim." And then he makes the butterflies fly really fast by kissing his cheek, and Jim _knows_ his face is just as red as Spock's. "You…are a good boyfriend, Jim. You always make me happy."

The words take a long time to get out but when they do come out they make Jim so happy he can't stop smiling. When he grows up, he is going to marry Spock. And they'll love each other the best _forever._

* * *

 _Seriously, I'm such a big kid person and writing about these two just had me squealing. *flails excitedly*_

 _Let me know what you think? ^_^_


	28. Lasers of Love

_This is not beta read, but most of them aren't so I hope you'll forgive that anyways ^^;_

 _Word Count: 903_

* * *

Laser tag AU

* * *

All it took was a single glance for Jim to know that Bones was regretting ever opening his mouth; his enthusiasm must have been all but shouting from his _entire_ being. Now Jim could admit that he may be just a _tad_ bit competitive, something that REALLY shines whenever he plays the particular game Bones just sarcastically brought up as an option. Laser tag was one of the few activities that him and Sam actually participated in together, and it always leaves a bittersweet taste in his mouth but that changed once he joined Starfleet academy.

His first time playing on campus is still something bones doesn't like to talk about; but hey, the whole point was to win, and their team? Well it certainly did that. He was sure that his friend didn't even think he could hear him. True, he had been spacing out just a tad when Spock started to talk about the many, _many_ experiences the science department was doing. The talk then blended into how an activity suggested by Sulu actually accomplished bringing the department closer, who then added that they were one of the most well working departments on the ship.

Then Uhura happened to wonder about ways they could possibly get the crew as a whole to really get along outside of a crisis. Bones really should have known better than to sarcastically bring up laser tag as an option, for all that he mumbled it under his breath. _"Why don't we just have them shoot lasers at each other, that seemed to work for Jim and Gary."_

Jim chose to ignore the last half of the sentence, for their own piece of mind. Gary was a sore topic, for many reasons, and not an argument they needed to get into in front of their friends who weren't there at the time.

"Well Bones, I think that's a _great_ idea." Jim exclaimed, sitting up with a broad grin. Bones groans and slaps his palm to his forehead, slowly dragging it down his face. The reaction attracts many eyes that had yet to be drawn to them—the smack had been rather loud.

"Ach, laddie, that sounded like it hurt." Scotty leaned forward to have a clearer look at Bones.

"Yeah, Bones. Quit hitting yourself." Jim grinned cheekily, smothering the snickers that wanted to follow at the look Bones gave him. It would be best not to push him too much. He turned from him and faced Spock. "Laser tag for bonding sounds like a great idea, and I think we should get started on figuring it all out now."

"Jim…" Bones started; he waved his hand at him and told him to hush, keeping his focusing on his first officer.

"You down?" Jim asked, smiling brightly at Spock. "It'll be fun, Spock! And it really is a good way to get everyone bonding and wanting to be there and whatnot."

Though he didn't hear it, Jim certainly saw him sigh. "Alright, Captain. Laser tag it is."

Jim doesn't even bother trying to hide his excitement, nor pay attention to his friend being extra grumpy. This was going to be _great_.

* * *

"Spock!" Jim hissed, shifting his weight from one leg to the next and soundlessly inching until they were next to one another, their arms brushing and sending a rush of heat through Jim that he, as ever, ignored. It was never the right time or place to even contemplate the implications of it, let alone what he would want from it.

"Yes, Captain?" Spock kept his voice quiet, sparing him a glance from the corner of his eye.

"The only ones left on the other team are Cupcake, Chapel, and little Riley. I know what we need to do to win this thing." Spock's only response to that was to raise a brow and Jim took that as the invitation to elaborate that it was. He laid out his plan in low tones, keeping an eye out for the last few opponents left standing.

"Your plan is acceptable, Captain." Spock murmured; Jim grinned and enjoyed the light blush that spread on his cheeks in response.

"Alright. Let's do this thing." Jim pressed his arm briefly to Spock's before setting the plan into motion.

In the end, the plan goes so smoothly Jim is left to wonder why away missions can't ever do the same. Jim gave the signal and Spock started them off, and in less than twenty minutes they were laying side to side on a high slab of rock, firing off the winning shots. They hear from a distance the groans of the losers and the cheers from their team; Jim set down the modified gun and turned to Spock, smiling widely in proud delight at the sight—and win—before them.

The sight that greeted him left him stunned, his heart skipping a beat. Spock is relaxed, and smiling back at him with more than just his eyes. Its striking, enchanting—Jim can't be held responsible for letting his worries fly free and surging in to taste the happiness on Spock's lips. The moment Spock's lips press back into his—soft, shy, and so strong all at the same time—Jim is lost.

As they kissed enthusiastically to the soundtrack of their crew finally, truly bonding below them, Jim found himself once again thankful for the wonder that was laser tag.

* * *

 _Let me know what you think? :)_


	29. Warm Me Up

_Not the original direction I had planned on going with this, but that's alright. Short but sweet for you!_

 _Word Count: 460_

* * *

You're a ghost and I'm a human and somehow we fall in love with each other AU

* * *

"Psst, Spock!" James whispers loudly, fazing into the room. Spock is sitting at his desk, diligently doing his homework as he does each night.

"Yes, James?" Spock asks not even bothering to look up from his paper. James pouts.

"Spooock." He elongates the word and plops back on Spock's bed, as ever making no dent. "Pay attention to me, won't ya? I was home alone all day."

"I have to finish my work, James. Also, my mother was home from work today so you had company." Flipping to the next page in his book he scans until he finds his answer and writes it down.

"Yeah, but…she can't see me. It makes conversation a little awkward…" James mumbles, hitting him with his best puppy eyes when Spock grants him his attention. It works, and he gets what he had been aiming for; Spock sighs, setting his pencil down and marking his page before sliding his chair back and walking the short distance to his bed.

Scooting over eagerly so that Spock can lay down beside him James gifts him with a bright smile. "We did watch TV together, though. Caught up on our soaps."

"I do not understand the fascination with those shows that you two share." Spock sighs, laying down beside him on the bed. There is always a chill around when James is near, but after the years they have been together Spock finds himself accustomed to it. Though he would never admit to it, he finds a certain comfort in the cold now. He is not looking forward to his academy days when he will not be able to feel it, or see James face, whenever he comes home.

As if he is reading his mind—something Spock would not put past him; if anyone could find a way, it would be James—said man rolls to his side and props himself on an elbow, smiling fondly down at him.

"Hey, everything will be alright, okay? We'll figure this all out before you graduate. Between the two of us, my little 'inconvenience' doesn't stand a chance." James waits for Spock's face to relax to lean in, brushing a soft, loving kiss across his lips.

"I love you, Spock. And we _will_ figure this out. I promise."

Overcome with a rush of emotion, Spock surges up and into another kiss, pressing James into the bed. James is setting a fire while cooling him all along his front, and as it always happens when they are close, he starts to take a more solid form. As they scramble to divest each other of their clothes, Spock can't help but look to the future with overwhelmingly strong hope, and deep love.

With James by his side, they can do **anything**.

* * *

 _Please, be gentle, and let me know what you think?_


	30. Love on The Road

_I had so hoped to finish and post all of these before this April. =/ I haven't gone to bed yet though, so I'm counting this as finished before April. Yup._

 _Word Count: 2,022_

* * *

Cross country road trip gone wrong AU

* * *

Going on the road trip may have been Jim's idea, but all the preparation and figuring out how much money they would need, their gas money stash, along with other need-to-know information that Jim just didn't want to figure out—that was all the work of Spock. They compromised when it came to figuring out where to go and how long to stay; Jim wanted to leave when it felt right and go wherever the road took them, while Spock wanted to set a schedule and make a plan.

Eventually they settled on a way that worked for the both of them, and were able to pack up and leave during the night, chasing the sunrise into a brand-new city. The start of it was easy and went more smoothly than they had anticipated—it made the rest of the trip almost comical in comparison.

* * *

The first sign that things weren't going to run as smoothly as they wished was at the end of the very first week. Up until that day, things had been going surprisingly well. They had no problems with the rooms, or their car, or exploring cities and towns in a manner that appeased them both; but come Friday, when they had planned on spending the weekend in this quaint, small town to enjoy the surrounding nature mayhem struck.

While Jim went inside to book a room for the night—not that they really planned on using it; Jim had finally convinced Spock that sleeping outside in a tent was an adventure worth having—when a boom of thunder echoed overhead. Pausing in his tracks he looked up, frowning at what had moments ago been a clear blue sky.

"Well, shit." Grumbled Jim; he had barely taken two steps when the skies opened up, leaving him to run as fast he could to the safety of the lobby of the admittedly run down hotel. "Hey, I'd like to book a room for two please."

"Yeah, sure." The clerk behind the water-stained desk opens a rickety drawer, tossing a log book onto the counter. "Name, number, pay thirty in cash for one night, double it for another, etc." the bored young man drawled, fishing room key out and exchanging it for the money Jim handed his way. "Enjoy your stay." He said through a yawn.

Jim just shook his head and walked out, room key gripped tight as he scanned the parking lot for where Spock had parked the car. Spotting their ride only a few spots from the door he stood before, Jim walked quickly over, hopping into the passenger seat and running a hand through dirty blonde locks.

"I got us a room; the clerk was weird." Jim stated, turning towards Spock. "Our room is on the other end,"

"Ok. I will park us near there instead, so that we will be in the rain for a shorter amount." Jim agreed with the decision and in a few short minutes they are staring in disbelief at what may possibly be the grossest hotel room Jim has seen—and with a mom who liked to run away from her problems. He had seen a _lot._

"I guess this must be why the room are so cheap." Jim tossed his bag on the bed, turning to find Spock looking at the mattress with disgust. "The rain doesn't look like it'll be letting gup anytime soon…" he trailed off, waiting for Spock to say _some_ thing—anything at this point.

"Next time, I will be choosing the hotel, even if we only plan on using the room to store our belongings." He announced firmly, digging their backup blankets out of one of their bags and spreading one out atop the bed, and folding the other for later in the night. "Finding a laundromat in the next town will be a priority."

Jim could only agree; who knew what was now on their blanket, or would be on their clothes. Plus, they did need to hit one and do some laundry in the first place so it wasn't a bad call. "We're not sleeping out in nature tonight, are we?"

The look Spock gave him then spoke volumes. Holding up his hands in defense Jim stepped towards him. "I didn't think so, but. Better safe than sorry, yeah?" he pressed a soft kiss to his lips, humming in contentment when Spock relaxed under the touch.

"Come on, let's try to settle in for the night, yeah?" Jim asked quietly, feeling overwhelmingly fond of the man before him, an emotion that only grew when his response was to press a smile to his lips. With Spock near, any hardship was lessened—even disgusting rooms in a rundown hotel along the side of the road in the middle of the night.

* * *

Jim found the truth of that statement tested in the following weeks. What should have been an easy trip was turning into a small disaster; Jim blamed his mom's bad karma for it. it had to go somewhere when she died, didn't it?

Spock, of course, disagreed.

"Shit! You have _got_ to be kidding me." Jim threw his hands in the air out of frustration, staring down at their deflated tire. "Even dead she's causing me grief." He groused, throwing open the trunk when he heard the 'click' from Spock unlocking it.'

"Pardon?" Spock asked, accepting the tools and starting on the tire while Jim fished the spare from the trunk.

"My mom. All of her fucking bad karma that never reached her had to go somewhere when she fucking ate dirt. And Sam sure as hell didn't get it." his brother was doing better than he ever had, now that he didn't have a tag-along brother and screw up of a mother to drag him down.

They switched out the tire in a charged silence; it wasn't until everything was squared away that Spock took his hand, stopping him from rounding the car. Jim stood stiff by the back-passenger door, keeping his face turned away. He had a feeling he knew what Spock was going to say.

"James." He felt a small tuft of air hit his neck; Spock was upset he didn't turn around, but would not force him to. Instead, he moved closer and rested a soothing hand on his hip.

"Your mother was unkind and unfair to you in life, but you must let your anger go before it consumes you." the words are harsh but true. His mom left him damaged when she lived. And he deserved more than to let that follow him now that she was gone.

"Furthermore, there is no such thing as karma." The matter of fact tone he stated that in chased laughter from him. "If there were, you would be receiving nothing but the good variety."

The words warm him from the inside out, and Jim can do no less than throw himself at Spock and hold him tight. Despite what Spock said, Jim knew that the two of them meeting and falling in love was the best gift karma had ever given him.

* * *

When one thing goes wrong with a car, another disaster is just lying in wait for the most inopportune time there is. Jim is unsurprised when, almost three towns over their car stutters beneath his hands and they have to cruise to the side of the road to park in a cloud of smoke. Sighing he rolled the windows down, cutting the engine and pooping the hood.

"How much you wanna bet we're stuck in the middle of nowhere with a problem we can't fix?" Jim raised his voice to be sure he was heard, waving smoke away to look at the engine.

"It would be foolish for me to take that bet, considering the…'theme' of this trip." Spock replied, leaning in as well.

Jim sighed. "I guess it's not totally a bad thing? We needed to buy a new spare, anyways."

Spock pulled out his phone as they slid back in to the car. "Mm. I suppose not."

Jim rolled down the windows, grateful for the fact that it was a cool day and they wouldn't melt while they waited for the tow truck. He kept quiet until Spock ended the phone call, turning to him and waiting expectantly.

"They said it would take approximately forty-five minutes for someone to arrive." The last words were spoken through a low sigh. "Do we still have water in the ice chest?"

"Yeah, I restocked last night. Do you need one?" Jim was twisting to fish one out before Spock had a chance to answer. He handed him the full bottle and kept the open one for himself—it was his anyways. "Too bad we don't have any snacks."

"That is on the list for out next shopping trip." Spock reminded him, pulling out said list to put a star next to it—Jim's preferred way of putting great importance on the item.

"Awesome." Jim reclined his seat and sighed up at the roof "Do you want to stop for the day in this town or the next?"

Spock was silent for a few minutes. Jim could tell by the tones his phone was producing that he wasn't ignoring him, simply checking their options before replying. It was the kind of thing his boyfriends was wont to do.

"it appears there is no availability in the town the shop resides in. the next town will be where we stay." Spock pronounced.

"Mm, alright. We should do tacos for dinner tonight." He mused. "I'm sure we could find a decent taco truck. That's something you definitely have to do once in your life."

"Would that please you?"

"It would."

"Then we shall."

Jim smiled and leaned up, kissing Spock fondly. "Love you." He murmured softly into his lips.

"And I you." Spock replied, kissing Jim once again.

As the kiss deepened, Jim found himself wishing that the tow truck would take its sweet time so that they could enjoy this moment of peace for just a little while longer.

* * *

The following weeks go by so very smoothly Jim finds himself waiting for the other shoe to drop. So when it finally did? He was far from surprised. When they arrived at the town they were tired, it was late, and they really just wanted a night to regroup and figure out where it was they were going next—and what their cash status was.

The town was so small that all of that should have been simple—until, of course, a wrench was thrown into their simple plan.

"All of the hotels are booked." Spock stated, setting his phone down and turning to look at Jim.

"And it's too late to go into another town." Jim added, cocking his head at him. "You up for sleeping in the car? New experience for you."

"That…would be fine." Spock eventually replied.

"Alright! Let's see where we can park for the night." Jim drove them around town until he could find the perfect place, parking somewhere they were out of the way and would not get in trouble with the authorities over. They settle with blankets and pillows in the back seat; Jim had never been so grateful to have it be so roomy in his life.

Jim turned to face him, struck at how enchanting he looked in the moonlight. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he said softly, enjoying the blush that colors his cheeks. Jim reached out and cupped his face in his hands, waiting until he met his gaze to continue. "You really are, Spock. Smart, endearing, and beautiful." He pressed the words to his lips, deepening the touch each time. "I love you."

"I love you, as well, Jim." Spock's words, the kiss he pressed to his lips, are full of love Jim never thought he would have. As he is pressed back into the seat, Spock cradled between his thighs and hands roaming his body, he knows that no matter what else happened on the trip, it would be the best one he _ever_ had.

* * *

 _Let me know what you think? See you guys later today! ^_^_


End file.
